


Expect the Unexpected

by Shiningheart_of_ThunderClan



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, Fili makes a good meatshield, Fili too, Kili for the love of everything good and holy please shut up, Kíli Is a Little Shit, Modern Girl in Middle Earth, More than his grumpy face, Self Insert, Thorin's wtf face makes many appearances, Why? Because reasons, but less so, sort of, which is saying something!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-03-31 06:46:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3968431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shiningheart_of_ThunderClan/pseuds/Shiningheart_of_ThunderClan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Birthday wishes almost never came true. Why did it have to be this one that did? Katie wished for an adventure, not a quest with 13 dwarves, a wizard, and a hobbit to slay a dragon! Stupid Gandalf with his stupid inability to take no for an answer...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So. Self-insert. Yay. Ya'll are going to be witness to all my insecurities, thoughts, quirks, and flaws. The rating is mainly because of my crude sense of humor. If I decide to make it lemony, rest assured that I will up the rating from T to M. Until then, I hope you enjoy my story! Thank you for reading!

“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear Katie! Happy birthday to you!" A burning ache filled my chest as my friends and family sang to me. Whether it was happiness or heartburn, I refused to think about. One answer was positive, the other meant I'd had too much soda. I refuse to give up my carbonated beverage however, so let's just move on.

"Make a wish and blow out your candles!" my mother said. She'd been a beauty in her time. Thick long hair, bright blue eyes, and curved in all the right places. Now at 53 years old, her figure had gone from hourglass to pomegranate and she dyed her hair religiously to hide the gray.

I look almost exactly like her when she was 23, or at least from the pictures I've seen. We had the same facial features; nose, mouth, chin. I think she'd even been a brunette as well, but she's been blonde (and gray) for as long as I can remember. Even my eyes come from her side of the family, though it seemed to have skipped her. A pretty hazel color with a brownish ring around the pupil, framed by thick eyelashes.

My eyes are probably the only thing I like about myself. The rest of me is too pudgy and hairy, but I don't bore you with my faults. I had a wish to make! It's been so long since we've had such a large gathering. Yes we're missing people, but this has been the biggest group we've had in a while! Timmy and Anna, Nicky and Joey, Chris and Tony... Even John and Brian were here too! I mean I know most of them are here for Timmy, since this was his birthday party too (he was born three years and one day before me; go figure), but I don't mind! At least I got to see them all.

I've missed this, actually. Feeling a part of something, like they actually cared about me. I knew I was lying to myself, that their lives wouldn't change one iota if I suddenly disappeared, but it made me feel better. Maybe I could wish for more of this? To see more of my friends? But no, I wouldn't be that selfish. They had their own lives that I wasn't a part of.

What else? To somehow suddenly be transported to the world of One Piece and live out my life as a pirate? Ha, yeah right. Even if shit like that DID happen, in a world where ships and boats are the main way to travel, I'd be fucked. I can't swim and I have a phobia of drowning. So yeah, that's out. But that doesn't mean I can't wish for the next best thing!

I closed my eyes and wished. I wished as hard as I could, 'I wish I could go on an adventure!' It only one breath to blow out all of the candles which meant my wish would come true! Oh, I hope my adventure starts soon, and is a good one!

\- -

That night was like any other. I changed into my pajamas (black with white Batman symbols around), brushed my teeth, and spent hours flipping around different sites on the internet. Gotta tell ya, Tumblr is a dangerous place to be when you've got the sleepy hahas.

Out of nowhere my laugh became a yawn, and a wave of fatigue hit me so strong that it sent the world around me out of focus for a bit. I must have been more tired than I thought. Good thing I don't work tomorrow! Increasingly sluggish, I shut down my laptop, said goodnight to my parents and pets (Alex, my cat, attacked my foot), and crawled into bed.

I dreamed of stars and pain that night. Or at least, I thought they were stars. Bright lights went whooshing by me, too fast for me to get a good look. Not that I could have been able to anyway. I was too focused on the unGodly pain that was coursing through me. It felt like my blood was on fire and boiling my skin. Like I was being pulled apart, molecule by molecule, and forced back together into something unnatural.

It seemed like forever until the pain faded to a stop. As soon as it did, I forced my eyes open and swiftly got to all fours to violently puke cake and ice cream and chips up. My throat burned like wildfire when I was done, and I collapsed onto my side to avoid the vomit. I have no idea what that dream was, but I hope to God I never have it again.

I kept my eyes closed and my face pressed into the dirt, letting birdsong wash over me. It wasn’t until my stomach settled that I forced myself up and looked around. It hadn’t occurred to me before how wrong this all was. I’d gone to bed in East Bangor, Pennsylvania. And while it wasn’t devoid of plant life, none of it was as beautiful as this.

All around me oaks and maples rose. Their branches were teeming with green buds, promises of new life to come. Squirrels and birds fluttered and scampered along through the boughs, every once in a while staring back at me before moving on. Below, on the ground, bushes grew haphazardly everywhere with flowers just beginning to bloom of all shapes and colors and sizes and scents.

It seemed to be Spring here, which coincided with back home where it was a little beyond a week into March, since my birthday was March 9th. So there was always the possibility of this being a prank by one of the others. They could have, have drugged me or something and moved me while I was sleeping. It wasn’t their style, too harsh, but it was a more comforting thought than someone unknown kidnapping me and leaving me to die a slow painful death.

The air was cleaner here though. Even now I could feel my energy returning to me as I breathed. It was such a new feeling that I knew instinctively something was very, very wrong. “Toto, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore.” I said aloud, not expecting an answer.

I think I was well within my rights to shriek when a withered voice said from DIRECTLY BEHIND ME, “I do not know who this Toto is, my Lady, but you are most certainly nowhere you know of.”

Turning around, I looked up. And up. And up. This man was very, very tall, wore a gray robe and hat, carried a wooden staff with a gem on the end, and had bright, sparkling blue eyes that watched me with wisdom and kindness and no small amount of amusement. It was the eyes more than anything else that made me realize who I was looking at. “You… You’re Gandalf the Grey.”

He inclined his head just so to confirm. “Indeed I am. And you, my dear, are Katie, daughter of Candy, and the Valar’s chosen.” I gaped. I’m pretty sure a fly flew into my mouth and out again. Gandalf chuckled again and leaned against his staff to peer down at me. “You did wish for an adventure, did you not?”

I stared at him before realizing what he meant. My birthday wish. He was talking about when I blew out my candles earlier. How had he known that? Unless…. “I have two, possibly three theories on how you know that. One, you’re the one that kidnapped me and my friends are innocent this time.” He looked almost scandalized. Probably at the mere suggestion he’d kidnapped me, but I live to make things difficult for other people. “It’s happened before. My friends knocked on my door, I opened it, and the next thing I know Joey has my arms, Nicky has my legs, and they’re telling my parents they’ll have me back by ten.”

And that is a completely true story, I’m not even kidding. Gandalf coughed to himself and looked up, as if asking God or the Valar for strength to deal with my bullshit. Welcome to my mother’s life. Although at this point he’s taking it a lot better than she did. She would have just walked away by now if she were here. “Perhaps you would benefit from a better choice of friends?” Which is a fancy way of saying ‘bitch stop hanging out with those idiots’.

I gave him a grin that I can only hoped seemed sharp and fierce and not as stupid as I thought it did. “Oh trust me, they never did it again after I broke Joey’s nose with my elbow and kicked Nicky in the nuts.” That part was a fabrication, but he wouldn’t know the difference. I hope, at least. “The second theory is that I’m in a legit coma right now and you’re the manifestation of my subconscious here to show me that life itself is an adventure, or some sappy thing like that.”

He raised a bushy eyebrow at that. “A surprisingly deep theory, but wrong nonetheless. And the third?”

I waved a hand around to indicate the entire scene around us, including the puddle of vomit I refuse to acknowledge as mine. “All of this is real. I’m really in Middle Earth, you’re really Gandalf, and the Valar really are the ones who brought me here. In which case, the Valar need to get their heads on straight because I’m the last person anyone should want as their champion.”

His eyebrows rose, and his gaze got so intense that it was making me nervous. A nervous Katie is a babbly Katie, and babbly Katie is more annoying than usual because she just won’t shut up. “I mean, do I look like a warrior to you? No, because I’m not a warrior! But then, I guess you don’t either. Quite frankly you look like the senile old man one would find wandering the parking lot because he forgot where he parked only to realize he didn’t even drive, he took the bus.”

See? I never would have said that if I wasn’t nervous. Thought it, yes, but not said it. Gandalf looked a bit offended at being called senile, but I was still babbling too fast for him to speak. “But my point is that I don’t know how to fight! I can’t swing a hammer or throw an ax or shoot a bow or wield a sword! I’m worse than Hiccup from How To Train Your Dragon because at least he’s smart enough to find ways around his weaknesses by playing to his strengths!”

Naturally, the wizard didn’t get the reference. I’d honestly be a bit worried if he had. “My dear, I think you give yourself far too little credit. Regardless of whatever skills you may or may not have, we have a deadline to meet.” … Did… Did Gandalf just blow me off? And what does he mean ‘deadline’?! “We must be in Bag End one week from now, I must still convince one particular hobbit to join our Company.”

Bag End? A week? OUR Company?! “You didn’t listen to a single word I said, did you?” I sighed. I’m not even sure why I’m surprised. He didn’t take ‘no’ from Bilbo, why would he take a ‘no’ from me? “Alright old man. You have an entire to teach me how not to be an outsider, and we both have until then to come up with a cover story to tell the others about why I’m here, and we ALSO need to find a way to convince Thorin to let me tag along.” Gandalf raised an eyebrow and I rolled my own in response. “What, you thought the Valar brought me here for my pretty looks or singing voice? Why else would I be here if not for my knowledge?”

He wore a considering look before nodding. “Perhaps we should simply tell him you’re a Seer?” I didn’t quite hide my grimace. I’ve quite honestly lost track of the number of fanfictions about a modern girl claiming to be a Seer, and that was one cliche I absolutely refused to fall into. “Are you sure? It would be an easy story to sell. No? Well alright. As you said, we’ve time enoough. Surely between the two of us we can come up with something!”

And with that, he started walking. I took a moment to think if I really wanted to get caught up in this. Did Thorin, Fili, or Kili deserve to die? No. Did I think could change anything? Not really. But I was here for an adventure, and whatever else occurred, an adventure will be had! I only hoped I didn’t die in the process...


	2. Chapter 2

Two days later, Gandalf and I arrived at the outer edge of Bree. It was good timing for a few reasons. One, it had started to rain about ten minutes ago leaving the both of us drenched and miserable. Two, we’d started walking at barely past the asscrack of dawn and had only rested a bit, leaving us drenched, miserable, and tired. Three, all of the cover stories we thought up was shot down by the other for one reason or another, leaving us drenched, miserable, tired, and positively homicidal.

At one point Gandalf had gotten pissed off enough to snap, “Perhaps we shall simply tell them you are an exceedingly hairless dwarf, for you certainly have the stubbornness of one!” It was probably an ill omen of my future self preservation skills that I was rather pleased in bringing out the old man’s temper.

Those were the last words we’d shared for a few hours. But here in the gathering darkness, any petty resentments I had towards the wizard disappeared. I had mixed feelings about Bree, mainly because I didn’t know what to expect. Beyond the scenes in Lord of the Rings and the opening scene in Desolation of Smaug (and even then I don’t know if that was just the extended edition or the original), I didn't know what to expect. And I didn't like that. "How far is it to Bag End?" I whispered to Gandalf, eyeing some passing people hidden beneath cloaks.

Gandalf must have sensed my underlying tension, for he whispered back, "A few days travel west of here. We have all of tomorrow to buy you provisions and some... appropriate attire."

It wasn't the first crack he'd made about my Batman PJs, and I felt rather offended on the Caped Crusader's behalf. "True as that may be, Batman is a cultural icon where I come from! Children around the world aspire to be as brave and just as he is!" Or insane, depending on which aspect they decide to emulate. Running around and beating up thugs, great. Running around and beating up thugs while dressed as a big black bat? Not so much. The wizard got us a two-bed room at The Prancing Pony. Genuinely curious, I asked, "Are there actually any other inns in Bree?"

He grinned at me, eyes twinkling in good humor. “Yes, but The Prancing Pony has the best food and drink in all of Bree!” A hearty hale came from those close enough to hear, and Gandalf leaned closer to add, “Plus it doesn’t smell as foul as the other inns.” He winked and I had to cover my mouth to stifle a laugh.

Gandalf led the way to the room, and I admit a sigh of relief when I flopped gracelessly onto the bed closest to the window. There was a few minutes’ silence of me just enjoying some softness beneath me while my companion readied his pipe and smoked some. I had to fight with myself to rise and sit properly on the bed to face him. “So, let’s face it. Neither of us is going to come up with something in the next however many hours to tell the Company.”

He hummed and puffed at his pipe, blowing magical shapes with the smoke. I counted a ship, a butterfly, an actual cloud… “Perhaps it would be best to, as you say, wing it.” I thought it over. I was good at bullshitting stories under pressure, but that really only worked when I was the only one lying.

I nibbled on the knuckle to my pointer finger on my right hand, a habit of mine when I was in deep thought and looked up at Gandalf. “Okay, so this might be asking a bit much from you… but leave the lying to me.”

I wonder if anyone else ever caused the wizard to choke like that. He had to pound on his chest to cough up some smoke before he gave me an incredulous look. "Why ever would you want all that responsibility on your shoulders? You realize if Thorin discovers your deception he might not respond kindly."

It was nice of him to care so much, but I remained firm. "Have you ever heard of the phrase ‘‘'too many cooks spoil the broth'?" He nodded slowly. "It's the same thing for lying. Too many people, too many stories. Eventually we'd contradict each other somehow or someway." He still looked unconvinced and I sighed. "I know I might be asking for more than I deserve, but I need you to trust me."

Gandalf wasn't happy, I could see that in his expression, but he acquiesced with a sigh. "I dislike not being prepared. What shall I tell the others if they ask about you?"

It said something about me that my answer was swift in coming. Not sure what it said, but definitely something! "It depends on the question, really. If it's something inconsequential, like whether I like something or what you think I'd like, answer honestly. If It's something personal, like family or history, tell them it's not your place to say or that I never told you."

The look in his eyes went from uncertain to shrewd and appraising, like he was trying to figure me out. "That... That could work. You are cleverer than you first appear, Miss Katie." Aaaand now I was blushing. Shit shit and double shit. Gandalf chuckled at me and motioned with his pipe to the pillows. "Get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a big day."

Ugh, he had to remind me. Stupid wizard. I hated shopping.

\- - - 

Two days and more arguments later, we set out for Bag End. What Gandalf hadn’t told me beforehand was that we’d be riding horses. At first I’d been excited because, you know, pretty horsies. Then I’d actually seen the beasts at the stalls and I’d pleaded, downright BEGGED, Gandalf to let me ride a pony instead. The horses they had were bloody massive. Like, the top of my head was parallel with the top of their backs.

He didn’t laugh on the outside, but I just knew he was cackling like the madman he is on the inside. I say again, stupid wizard. “Of course you’re riding a pony. As… entertaining as it would be to watch you attempt a horse, I fear the lack of dignity would be counterproductive in earning the dwarves’ favor.” He walked away to speak to the stablehand and I glowered at his back. I wanted so badly to throw something at his head, but the bastard would probably just dodge without missing a beat in the conversation.

In the end, I rode a bay-colored mare named Buttercup. She was a patient and friendly pony, and put up with my relearning. I’ve only ever had one or two riding lessons. I was competent enough by the time we were on the road, but I knew I wouldn’t be entering any competitions when I got home.

At first it was quiet between the two of us. Gandalf led the way, of course. I kept myself occupied by making faces at his back and looking away innocently when he turned around, pretending to be observing the scenery.

And the scenery was beautiful. The road we were on was more of a natural track, trampled flat by generations of feet, hooves, and wagons. The ground alternated between bare earth, regular grass, and tussocks of weeds so tall they brushed the bottom of my boots that Gandalf insisted I get. Large trees rose up on other side and blotted out the sky, and while normally I’d find this rather ominous, I admit I rather liked the way it caused the sun rays to hit the ground in dappled beams.

Eventually, however, I did find myself more internalized. I thought of the dwarves we’d come upon, and I thought of all the fanfictions I’ve read. Of Kili’s laughter and easy smiles, of Fili’s silent strength and willingness to listen, of Thorin’s bravery and hidden kindness... and made a choice. “Gandalf.” The seriousness in my voice surprised even me, and I couldn’t blame the wizard for gripping his staff tighter and glancing around, as if I’d spotted some type of danger that his superior wizard senses hadn’t caught. “Calm down, old man. I just need you to promise you’ll do something for me.”

He relaxed at the assurance and glanced at me, looking slightly annoyed. “That, my dear, depends on what that something may be.”

Frankly I couldn’t blame him for that either. How many times had I given the same answer, or variations of it? But I needed him to understand this favor was necessary. “I’m not allowed to fall in love with one of them.”

Whatever else he’d been expecting, it was obvious my request had caught him off guard. Gandalf stopped his horse point blank and turned to look at me with the look of puzzled disbelief on his face. “Why ever not? Love should be celebrated, encouraged even! It’s a glorious thing, and in a world so dark and full of peril, one should seek whatever bit of light and happiness they can get. So I repeat myself: why?”

A lot of reasons, actually, but let’s just focus on the first. “I wished for an adventure, Gandalf, but what do you think might happen when that adventure ends? I might not get a choice in leaving or not, and what happens if the Valar send me back in the middle of the night, when everyone is asleep? They’ll think I didn’t want to stay and that I didn’t love them. Imagine the effect that would have on their confidence.”

There was more, and usually I’d go on because I want the people who argue with me to know just how inevitable their defeat is like some evil overlord monologuer, but I wanted Gandalf to agree with me, not just give up. I knew I’d need his help on this. He hummed and hawed and stared at me before sighing. “Your worry is a valid one, my dear. Though I cannot promise anything, I will do my best to help. It will, however, be largely up to you. No one knows your heart better than you, after all.”

I wanted to push the issue, but I let it go. He was agreeing to help, and I should just be happy with that. “So, tell me about the cultures that you know of. Will me being a woman be held against me?”

The next five hours were spent with Gandalf answering my questions. I didn’t limit my curiosity to the dwarves and the impending quest, either. I’ve seen all of the movies, from both The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings. Tried to read the books too, but Tolkien’s writing style bothered me for some reason and I could never get more than a few chapters in.

Turns out my being a women would have mixed reactions. Dwarf women were rare and so were cherished, hidden away from the world where no harm could come to them. The same thing went for every other race, except maybe elleths- which Gandalf told me female elves were called. Apparently every face had their own terms for the girls of their society. Elleths for Elves, dwarrowdams for the Dwarves (who preferred to be called dwarrows but I’m not THAT respectful), and women for Man. Hobbit women were just called lasses because apparently hobbits had NO creativity.

Okay, anyway. Mixed reactions. None of the Company will want me with them, but for different reasons. For half of them, they’ll want to keep me safe and away from whatever dangers they might face. The other, they’ll expect me to be a burden, someone soft and weak and unused to the harshness of the wilds.

All of that is true. I’ve been camping before, but always with my family and always with some comforts of home. Tent, blow up mattress, grill, and lighter to make fires. And honestly if it weren’t for the way this whole thing would end, I’d say fuck the wish and wait at Bag End or Bree or something and live out the full year in relative safety.

But how could I possibly do that when I DO know how this turns out? I might not know them personally, but I know none of the royals deserved to die. Not even Thorin, who quite frankly was an ass to everyone, even his nephews, the entire journey. Gods, totally not looking forward to that. I’m either going to cower like Bilbo or bitch at him like Gandalf.

For three days we traveled. It was rather easygoing and so, SO boring. There was good weather all around, there weren’t any attacks, and Gandalf must have worked some magic because the fire never grew dim. It took all the fun out of camping for me! Building a pyre bigger than me is one of my favorite things.

It was on the last day of traveling that I saw my first hobbit, an older gentlehobbit on a cart going the opposite way. He greeted Gandalf like an old friend while giving me a suspicious and wary look. Considering I was gaping at him, I was surprised he stuck around long enough to talk.

Because hobbits? Are fucking ADORABLE. Big, slightly pointed ears, short curly hair, and big feet with thick curly hair on top. I couldn’t even tell you his name and I wanted to take Mister Cart-Driver home with me to cuddle at night.

Something of my thoughts must have appeared on my face, for Mister Cart-Driver was quick to get out of there. Gandalf took one look at me and actually whacked me with his staff. “No kidnapping the hobbit. No kidnapping _any_ hobbits, no matter how adorable you might find them.”

I pouted at Gandalf’s back while rubbing my head. I thought wise old men were supposed to be against violence, but I guess Gandalf missed that memo. Or ignored it. I can totally see Gandalf ripping a paper to shreds and throwing it up in the air going, “I do what I want!”

Finally we crested a large hill, and the sight that greeted us took my breath away. Emerald green grass waved in the breeze, long enough to sway but short enough to be inviting, like it wanted me to run through it. The hills rolled ever one and on, further than my human eyes could see, and I had the insane urge to walk forever to see just how far they went.

Gandalf chuckled at my expression of awe and looked out over the hills with fondness. It was clear this place was important to him, though for whatever reason I didn’t know. “Welcome, my dear, to The Shire.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I know it's boring, but next chapter is when the actual plot starts. I promise.
> 
> Pages on Google Docs: 5  
> Words on Google Docs: 2480


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shiningheart of ThunderClan doesn't own The Hobbit. The canon characters, plot, and creation of Middle Earth belong to the Tolkien Estate.

A wise person once said, "This place is many things, but I'd never call it home." Another wise man once said, “Living in a shell with no soul”. We're going to ignore the fact that those are song lyrics and focus on my point.

Because The Shire? Is a FUCKING LIE. Oh it might look all warm and inviting on the outside, but inside it's filled to the hilltops with fear and suspicion. Gandalf and I led our ponies by the reins to a stable he remembered being 'somewhere around here'. I guess not even wizards are immune to going senile. The scene in Moria makes so much more sense now.

As we were walking, we came upon three hobbit children playing in the grass. Gandalf and I greeted them cheerfully, but they slowly backed away from us before fleeing without a word. Now I know the Shire wasn’t big on outsiders. They were a lot like dwarves in that respect. But to be outright afraid of us?

I cast Gandalf an unnerved look, but he shrugged it off. “I’m sure it’s just because they’re children.” he tried to assured me. Funny, considering he looked just as confused as I was. “It’s been a long time since I’ve visited the Shire. I’m sure only some of the older hobbits will remember me!”

The next hobbits we came upon were indeed of the older persuasion, all going slightly gray in their hair. They greeted Gandalf like an old friend, but me they greeted stiffly with fake smiles. It made me feel uncomfortable enough to withdraw from the conversation, petting my pony. Gandalf was quick to ask for directions to the stall and get us out of there.

Like I usually do with things that made me uncomfortable, I tried to put it behind me. “Well, at least we know where the stable is now. Then on to Bag End, yes?” I could practically feel the wizard trying to pick at my brain, but he grumbled a wordless assent.

Soon we dropped off our steeds at the stable and were indeed on our way to Bag End. We passed by more hobbits, but it was more of the same. Frightened young ones, maddeningly polite old ones, and middle-aged ones that were somewhere in the middle. Soon enough we were traveling up a road to the hobbit house (“Smial, dear, hobbits are rather sensitive about that”) that rested… inside? On top? What would be the proper term?

Wherever it was, we approached it. Gandalf stopped us down the lane and pointed with his staff to where a hobbit I knew to be Bilbo Baggins sat. I couldn’t see him very well, but I distinctly noticed curly brown hair and smoke rings rising through the air. “That, my dear, is our future burglar. Now this will take some delicate persuasion, so it might be best if you leave the talking to me.”

You know, maybe those fanfictions aren’t so far off when they say Gandalf is an attention-seeking arrogant know-it-all. With absolute no intention of following through, I nodded as solemnly as I could and followed the wizard to where Bilbo was leaning back with his eyes closed, puffing on his pipe contentedly. Another smoke ring was blown, and Gandalf waved his hand in the air. The smoke ring swirled around and became a smoke butterfly that blew back into Bilbo’s face, startling the hobbit into opening his eyes and sitting up properly.

I followed Gandalf the last couple of feet to stand just in front of the fence. Bilbo was blinking up at the both of us in confusion before offering us a polite yet confused smile. “Good morning!” he greeted. He was giving Gandalf the same look of vague familiarity that the other middle-aged hobbits gave, like an itch on the back of his mind that told him he knew this crazy old man but he couldn’t dredge up the memory.

Gandalf pounced like a starving man on a scrap of meat. He’d take any chance he could to confuse the shit out of the little people. “How do you mean?” Bilbo’s smile just turned even more confused. “Do you mean to wish me a good morning, or do you mean that it is a good morning whether I want it to be or not?” The more Gandalf spoke, the more confused Bilbo became. “Or perhaps you mean to say that you feel good on this particular morning. Or are you simply stating that it is a morning to be good on?”

I broke in with an equally bland tone, as if Gandalf and I had planned for me to continue where he left off. “Or did you perhaps simply mean it as a polite greeting from one stranger to another?” The old wizard gave me a scathing look that I simply rolled my eyes at. “Oh you didn’t think I’d actually let you handle this by yourself, did you? So far you’ve had all the tact and bluntness of a drunk dwarf.”

Gandalf actually spluttered indignantly at that while I stepped forward to bow to a rather amused but still befuddled hobbit. “Katie, daughter of Candy, at your service.” Gandalf huffed as Bilbo quickly stood to bow back, again rather politely. “This is Gandalf, a wandering wizard who enjoys confusing us simple folk with riddles of the wise.”

Recognition dawned at the name, and he traded the faintly confused look for faintly excited. "Not Gandalf the Gray, the wizard who made such marvelous fireworks? The old Took used to have them every Midsummer's Eve!" He then cleared his voice and started puffing on his forgotten pipe again, restraining the excitement and replacing it with respect. "I had no idea you were still in business."

Gandalf frowned in offense at the words. "And where else would I be?" And I totally would have answered with a sarcastic retort but for the fact that I suddenly couldn't speak. My mouth opened and closed, but not even a squeak was produced. Neither hobbit nor wizard appeared to notice, too focused on each other.

Or at least I thought so until Bilbo looked at me rather strangely. “Is… is she okay? She hasn’t made any sounds for the past few minutes.” 

The triumphant half-glance Gandalf sent me made me narrow my eyes in suspicion. He didn’t do what I think he did, did he? “She’s fine. I merely needed her silent for a few minutes to talk to you in peace.” If it weren’t for my current situation, I would have squawked. He’d used freaking magic to shut me up! That jackass! If I weren’t so furious I’d probably find it funny, but the fact of the matter was that I WAS furious. I thought magic wasn’t supposed to be used for mundane things like winning petty arguments! Trust Gandalf the Grump to bend the rules.

Bilbo raised his eyebrows in casual curiosity, but his eyes narrowed the slightest bit in suspicion. "Oh? And how can help you? I'm telling you now, I'll do whatever you want if you would put a permanent silence spell on the Sackville-Bagginses."

I threw my head back and cackled silently. Bilbo's well deserved distaste for his cousins is one of my favorite things ever. I'd never known if it was something that came from the fandom or it was mentioned in the book, but seeing Bilbo insult her in front of me is even better than it being canon. The only way this could be better is if he was insulting her to her face.

The conversation went much like it did in the movie. Gandalf asked Bilbo to go on an adventure with him, Bilbo said no, Gandalf ignored him, Bilbo insisted on no and slammed the door on us, and Gandalf wrote that funky symbol on the round door. I made sure to have as big a disapproving glower as I could muster when he turned back around and gestured to my throat with a raised eyebrow. “I apologize, my dear, but it was necessary.” 

“No it wasn’t.” I was almost surprised at the sound of my own voice, but only for a split second before I continued. "And neither was defacing Bilbo's door! You could have just as easily told the Company to gather at the home atop slash inside the tallest hill. I know dwarves don't have the best sense of above ground, but surely they know the difference between north and up!"

I hope so, at least. Much like Bilbo's disdain for the Sackville-Bagginses, I wasn't sure if Thorin's sense of direction was canon or not. Gandalf hummed his displeasure at my scolding before looking back up to Bag End. "I think, my dear, it might be best if you stayed here and talked to our hobbit. Convince him to join us, but be subtle about it. Hopefully you’re not so much a dwarf in Man’s skin that subtlety escapes you.”

Should I be insulted or amused? I quite honestly couldn’t decide. The twinkle in his eye made me think he was hoping for a reaction, so I decided a mixture of both. "Right, you'll pay for that later." I vowed with a smirk. Gandalf chortled in amusement and I waved him away with a hand. "Go. I'll talk to Bilbo and see what I can do."

Gandalf nodded and walked away, humming merrily all the while. Frankly I half expected him to send a letter with a bird and settle in The Green Dragon until tonight. I watched him go for a minute before squaring my shoulders and facing the iconic green door of Bag End. Here goes nothing.

I knocked lightly and would have jumped at the snap in Bilbo's voice if I hadn't been expecting it. "Go away! We don't want any adventures or quests or journeys here, thank you very much!"

Now now, Bilbo, that isn't very hobbit of you. What would he have done if I was one of his neighbors? "It's me, Bilbo. Gandalf is gone. May I please come in?"

Was it a dick move, using their mannerisms against him? Possibly. But I remember reading somewhere that a hobbit would let you get away with murder if you said please and thank you enough. Any Shirefolk worth their salt would never turn away such a polite request.

A gamble, yes, but one that payed off. Bilbo opened the door with a grumble and left it open. "Well, come on in then. It's almost time for Elevensies anyway. Would you like some tea while we wait?"

I almost pouted at the fact that I didn't have to bend to avoid the door frame. I would have gladly taken the whack on the head if it meant I were taller. "No thank you, I don't drink tea." Poor Bilbo looked almost scandalized, like I'd just admitted to being an orc in disguise. I removed both my boots and my cloak, leaving them respectfully at the door. "Do you have juice or water, though?"

He looked at my discarded garments in grudging approval before leading me to his parlor. "Let me look. Only fauntlings drink juice around here, so I might not have any, but I will do what I can."

I suppose that was as good as I could hope for. "Thank you, Master Hobbit." He nodded and scurried away as I sat down. My feet groaned at finally getting a rest, and I sighed as I massaged them. It was a miracle they hadn't fallen off by now. Exercise was never my strong suit, and being on my feet for a week was more than I could handle.

Gods, I was going to die before we even reached Erebor, wasn't I?

Bilbo walked in carrying a tray with two cups and cookies on it. "All I had was milk. I hope that's fine?" Queue internal grimace. Milk always made my stomach feel wonky. Still, at least he was trying to accommodate me. We sat in silence, awkward and tense as we sipped on our drinks. "Let's not dance around the topic. Gandalf sent you to convince me to go with you."

Heh, he certainly doesn't beat around the bush, does he? How the dwarves didn't love him on sight, I will never understand. "Right in one, Master Baggins." We sat in more silence, considering each other, before I sighed. "I don't think I can though, can I?"

Bilbo looked almost surprised at his easy victory before squinting suspiciously at me. "No, no you can't... but Gandalf is up to something anyway, isn't he?"

Jeeze, was I that easy to read? I hope not, or the others will know I'm lying even before I tell the lie. Though Bilbo has already proven himself rather astute and clever, so maybe it's just him? "By tonight you'll be up to your eyeballs in dwarves." He whimpered at the thought and rubbed at his eyes, as if trying to wipe away a mental image. I winced at the distress and instinctively apologized. "Sorry."

He took some deep breaths before calmly saying, "And I have no choice in the matter?" I shook my head in response and he sighed. "Right, I guess that means I will have to prepare a feast. Do you know what dwarves like to eat?"

I don't even know why I was surprised. Maybe I thought he'd fight me more, or that he would already know from his books about the world. "Meat. Lots and lots of meat. And some fruit and a smidgen of vegetables. No leafy things, like lettuce or cabbage. Potatoes and carrots mostly."

If I remembered right, at least. I was practically parroting what I've read in fanfictions and couldn't remember if it was Bombur or Bifur that liked salads, so best to leave that out completely. Bilbo looked like he was mentally preparing the menu before sighing. "I don't have that much meat in my smial, so I guess it's to the market with us. But oh, whatever shall I tell the others? The gossip will be enough to ruin me!"

I hummed and looked around for inspiration when I saw the portraits of Bilbo's parents. "Your mother was an adventurer once, wasn't she? Gandalf told me a story or two on our trip here. We could tell them they wanted to meet their dear friend's son and you're simply being a good host by catering to their... unique appetites."

Bilbo cast a sad smile to the painting of Belladonna Took and nodded. "That would work. She used to tell me about some dwarves she met when I was a fauntling, so no one would question it."

Soon enough it was down to the market. I will warn you all now, NEVER try to haggle with Bilbo. I thought he'd go for one vendor's jugular when she gave me a jacked up price and a snooty look. He handled the rest of the shopping while I followed like a child, too in awe to care he was treating me like a pack mule.

More than once we had to give our cover story to a nosy hobbit, but eventually it spread enough that no one else questioned it. Some even gave discounts when they heard. Bilbo was nice enough to inform me that those hobbits were either Tooks or Brandybucks, relatives and family friends who were glad the memory of his mother survived beyond the Shire.

I felt a little bad they were losing money because of our lie, but Bilbo assured me it was fine. "They make enough money in a single day that our discount won't even make a dent in their profits."

Now that we were done shopping, it was time for cooking. I was even more useless at that than I was shopping. Grand master chef, I was not. Bilbo eventually relegated me to washing dishes and even snarked at me not to break anything. 

The day passed by in a haze of good smells, playful banter, and vicious cursing whenever I touched a still hot dish. By the time we were finished, I could safely say Bilbo would never look at me as a lady ever again.

The doorbell rang and I swear I saw Bilbo turn as white as a sheet. "Oh Yavanna, I don't think I can do this. Nope, I know I can't do this! Oh why did I ever let me talk you into this? I mean, let you talk me into this? Oh I'm so nervous I can't even speak! "

If he heard the small 'aw' I gave at his sheer hobbity adorableness, he didn't acknowledge it. I clapped my hands on his shoulders and ordered, "Look at me, Bilbo." He did, eyes wide and fearful. "You got this. Remember that this is your house, your home, and it's by your good will they stay here. Don't let them take advantage of you. Dwarves respect backbone more than manners, so if they get out of hand, sass the hell out of them."

He still looked a bit shaky, but determined now. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves and a bit of steel entered his eyes. This wasn't Bilbo Baggins who fretted over his hankie. This was the Bilbo who stood before Azog the Defiler and DARED him to try and get to Thorin.

I should probably worry about me fucking with his character development, but I'd rather deal with that when it came. "Right. I'll get the door, you finish setting the table." I saluted to his back and retrieved a ridiculously heavy platter of some fowl carcass while listening to the conversation up front. "Bilbo Baggins, Master Dwarf, at your service."

Perhaps the few seconds silence was from surprise, or maybe appraisal. Whatever it was, it was a few moments before I heard, "Dwalin, son of Fundin, at yours." Loud stomping. "Where is it? I heard there'd be supper, and lots of it."

More loud stomping before Bilbo called, "This way. The kitchen is much too small to fit all of you. I was told I'd be 'up to my eyeballs in dwarves'." I smirked at hearing my own comment and skillfully ninja’ed my way around the other opening, just as Dwalin and Bilbo entered the main one. “Sit wherever you want. Since you’re the first to arrive, the others will hardly be able to complain.”

Dwalin grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, “That’s what you think." The sound of a chair scraping on the floor made me flinch. I peeked very, very carefully out of my hiding space and very, very quietly lost my shit. Dwalin was sitting at the head of the table, where Thorin would sit later. His back was facing me, and I had a fairly good view of Keeper and Creeper. I think those are his axes' names. They seem silly though, so I'm probably wrong.

And he was tall. Like, taller than me tall. Not by much, a few inches at most, but that paired with the sharp weapons and bulging muscles was enough for my instincts to scream 'STAY THE FUCKING HELL AWAY'.

Dwalin was surveying the buffet with a critical eye, and grunted appreciatively when Bilbo handed him a mug of ale. "Did you cook all this yourself? Seems too much for a tiny fellow like you."

Bilbo spluttered indignantly and puffed up, like an angry rooster or cat, and I crossed my fingers. This was his chance to prove he had a backbone and shouldn't be underestimated! "I'll have you know, Master Dwalin, that I am a perfectly respectable size for a hobbit!" I couldn't see the look the dwarf was giving, but whatever it was made Bilbo pale and lose all the bluster he'd gained. "Th-though yes, I admit I had some help."

That's my queue! I silently sneaked out and tapped Dwalin on the shoulder. Like the joke goes, I changed sides so he wouldn't see me when he turned. What I wasn't expecting was for him to swing his arm around to aim a fierce hit to where I'd previously been standing. He must have caught me gaping at him from the corner of his eye, for he gave me a sheepish look that I never would have expected from the gruff warrior. “Sorry ‘bout that, lass. Ye startled me, is all.”

I stared at him some more before speaking. “... That. Was. So. Cool!” Dwalin was further startled when I leaned closer to invade his space, smiling broadly at him. “I’m Katie, and I like puppies and kittens and rainy days and poking dead things with sticks! I don’t like bugs or bug bites or water, and my dreams are to one day become such a famous writer I can’t even go out to eat without being asked for an autograph! My blood type is AB and I was born in Spring, making me a Pisces! Who’re you?”

All of this was said fast and in one breath. The goal was for Dwalin to not understand a single word I was saying, especially the end. No need to have him asking questions this soon. I must have succeeded, for he answered slowly, “Er, Dwalin.”

… Sigh. Why, Dwalin? Why do you make messing with you too easy? “Hi, Erdwalin!"

He narrowed his eyes, like he was very quickly coming to doubt my intelligence. "No, just Dwalin."

My smile stayed the same, even while I was cackling on the inside. "Okay, Justdwalin!" Over Dwalin's shoulder, Bilbo had his face in his hands and seemed to be trying very, very hard not to throw something at me. He peeked out through his fingers and met my eyes, only to bury himself even further in his hands, shoulders now shaking. I considered it a victory that he was trying not to laugh.

The dwarf stared at me as if he was trying to decide if I was serious or not. I bit the inside of my cheek to not crack, but my mouth momentarily shifted into a smirk. Dwalin saw before I could wipe it off and exclaimed suddenly, “Oh Mahal’s balls, not another one!”

I cackled at that. Oh, this will be fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm looking for a beta reader. I have an unfortunate habit of put a g at the end of Dwalin's name because I'm used to writing -ing at the end of things. If ya'll are interested, I go by the same name on Fanfiction.net.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shenanigans occur, the company is met, and a song is sung!

Before I continue telling you my story, let me first assure you that the things that happened that night were totally not my fault. All of it can and should be blamed on Kili, because every story he's in doesn't describe in nearly enough detail what a little shit he is.

And I say that with as much love as possible for the cretin.

As the story goes, next to appear was old Balin. His hair was white as snow and he was shorter than me by however many inches Dwalin was taller. He wasn't nearly as susceptible to my charm as his younger brother was. In fact, I'm pretty sure he tolerated my stupidity only because of the faces Dwalin made every time I called him Erdwalin or Justdwalin. And Dwalin had no one to blame about that but himself. 

Soon after Balin showed, double knocks sounded on the door. I already knew who it was, but the sheer internalized agony on Dwalin's face made me beat Bilbo to the door so I could fling it up with a dramatic flourish I doubt anyone but the pair of brothers in front of me could appreciate.

Their eyes, blue and brown, lit up upon seeing me. "Fili-"

"And Kili-"

"At your service!" They bowed at the same time, and I wrestled with my inner fangirl to not tackle the both of them to the floor. "Oof!" Did I ever happen to mention I was a very poor wrestler?

They both laid out under me, blinking and gawking up at my tiny 5' frame. Surprise was the only reason I'd knocked them over so quickly. I giggled at their faces and bounced up, waiting for them to stand themselves before giving my name. "Katie, daughter of Candy, at yours! I sincerely apologize for the abrupt greeting, but Dwalin has been dreading this moment more and more since I met him earlier this evening."

I grinned with all the mischief I possessed at them, and answering smirks appeared on their faces. Dwalin was in for a very frustrating night. They shared a look and something flashed between them, though I could not for the life of me tell you what. Then Fili swooped in and picked me up bridal style. He skillfully ignored my indignant squawk- which, considering my flailing, was a rather impressive feat- and grinned charmingly. "Allow me to escort the pretty lady back to her seat!"

Kili followed after us, laughing his ass off. Neither gave a flying fuck at my curses or threats, at least until I threatened to pull Fili's braided mustache from his face. The reaction, however, was the exact opposite of what I wanted. Rather than putting me down, he actually THREW me up into the air, high enough that I brushed the ceiling with my fingers. When I came back down, it was Kili who caught me.

The younger dwarf gave a cheeky grin that, under any other circumstance, I would have found sexy as fuck. Aiden Turner had nothing on the actual Kili, I am so sorry to say. "No beard to pull on. About the only good thing being hairless has going for it!" And because he's a little shit, he tossed me in the air again and laughed when I tried to hang on to the chandelier and failed.

I clung to him when gravity took effect, fists held tightly to his jacket, and glowered. "Kili, I swear to everything you hold near and dear, if you don't release me RIGHT NOW-"

Oh he released me alright. Back into his brother's evil clutches! I shrieked when Kili chucked me once more and Fili did a fancy little spin when he grabbed me from the air. I didn't even realize we were back in the dining room with an audience until Bilbo mused, "Frankly I'm surprised she hasn't tried clawing you yet. Her nails are surprisingly sharp."

Probably not sharp enough to break dwarf skin, but at this point I was willing to give it a try! Fili must have caught the look in my eye. He chuckled and set me rather gently on my feet. "It's all in good fun, I promise. We meant no harm or offense, Miss Katie."

I huffed at the two of them and took the time to actually look them over. Fili had never been my favorite dwarf. I liked him well enough for his devotion to his family, both Thorin and Kili, but I'd never gone out of my way to find any fanfictions or fanart about him. His hair wasn't as blonde as I would have thought, seeming more gold or auburn than blonde. He had the same eyes as Thorin, and the same nose but the rest must have come from his dad. His signature twin swords rested on either side of his hips, but I knew he had multiple knives and daggers hidden on his person.

Note to self: convince Kili later to play a game of Hunt the Pointy Things.

Kili, on the other hand, was sex on legs. His hair fell in a wild, tangled mess down to his shoulder blades, and somehow looked both incredibly soft and prickly as a pineapple. His eyes were such a dark brown they looked black, but they weren't ominous or menacing. They were warm, and danced with silent laughter. He still wore his bow and quiver, but he also had a sword hanging on his side.

Something I found significant though: both were the same height as me. I frowned in thought, looking between all of the dwarves present, and slowly pondered, "I thought dwarves were supposed to be tiny and hairy. Am I just exceedingly short and ya'll are just incredibly bald? Balin, of course, being the exception.”

The elderly dwarf chuckled and threaded his fingers through his impressive beard, while Dwalin and the brothers exclaimed angrily. "Nay, lass, t'is not that. We are sons of Durin, the mightiest of the dwarf Clans. Our people are usually taller than the others, like the Firebeards. As for our beards, Fili and Kili are simply younger than us. Theirs have just not yet fully grown in. And Dwalin is only bald on top of his head. His beard just sort of blends in with the fur of his shirt."

I looked closer at the scowling warrior and realized Balin was right. Dwalin's mustache was actually braided into his beard, which looked like the pelt but a few shades brighter. I would have totally apologized to him... had Kili not added his cheerful and unnecessary two cents. "So see, you aren't EXCEEDINGLY short. You're just REGULARLY short. Makes a huge difference."

One second, two seconds, three seconds of silence. Then I emitted a war cry and pounced, once again taking the surprised dwarf to the ground. I am entirely sure he could have me pinned in less than a second, but he was kind enough to give me the illusion I had a chance. The two of us grappled with Fili cheering us on, but Bilbo put a stop to it. With more strength I thought he possessed, he hauled me up by the back of my shirt and snapped, "That's enough of that, if you please. No roughhousing in my smial."

Kili grinned and stuck his tongue out at me, only to yelp when Dwalin actually picked him up and carried him to a seat far away from me. "Mahal’s arse, you two are going to give me more gray hair than any orc or warg. I can only imagine what Thorin is going to think!"

I considered it a low blow, bringing up their uncle like that. Kili obviously thought so, for he deflated like a balloon and sank down in his seat. It made me feel bad enough that I questioned Dwalin, "Do all dwarves use Mahal’s sexy bits as curses? Or is it just you, Erdwalin?"

Exactly as I planned, Fili and Kili both burst out laughing. Through their spluttering, I was able to hear, "Sexy bits!" "Erdwalin!" "I can't even!" ... Either memes were a thing here or Kili was having problems breathing. I probably didn't help when I shouted melodramatically, "Breathe Kili! For the love of Mahal’s sexy bits, breathe!" ... Aaaand he fell out of his chair. Totally worth it.

The next hour was spent with me, Kili, and Fili all laughing and making fun of ourselves, each other, and the peanut gallery. Dwalin was aggravated, Balin was amused, and Bilbo was torn between the two. The only unanimous reaction among the dwarves was when I refused an ale, saying I didn't drink alcohol. I proved I was as stubborn as they are when they insisted I had at least one.

We were in a silent standoff when the bell rang multiple times and fists started pounding on the door. I stood up with an excited smile and wiggled in fangirlish excitement. "That must be Gandalf with the others!"

Bilbo went to open the door with me. Well, he did the opening. I was the one that pulled him out of the way so he didn't get crushed by... Bifur Bofur Bombur, Nori Ori Dori, Gloin and Oin... 8 dwarves. I suck at math, so yes, I did have to actually count.

Gandalf was on the other side of the door and had to bend over in half to look through the door. I wasn't the only one surprised when Bilbo abruptly started pushing the wizard with a very forced smile. "Why yes Gandalf I would love to have a pipe outside how kind of you Katie be a dear and see to the dwarves okay be back in a few minutes!" He slammed the door shut behind him only to pop back in and say, "And no roughhousing with the boys. I mean it!" Then he went back outside. 

We all stared for a maximum of three seconds before we heard Bilbo yelling in a decidedly UNhobbity way. I cleared my throat and clapped my hands, smiling when all of the newcomers looked at me. “So either Gandalf is going to die by tiny hobbit hands or Bilbo is going to be in a mood all night. Let’s enjoy ourselves before we get an angry short person on our asses. Ya’ll might survive that, but I certainly won’t.”

There was an undeniable snort from the dining room. “Ye can grapple with the lad and curse like a dwarf. I doubt a hobbit would be enough to end ya.” Dwalin stepped out of doorway to greetings from the others, and he aimed a smirk at them with a tilt of the head. “Now come on, all of you. Food is this way, and there’s lots of it, just like Gandalf promised.” The others cheerily discussed this amongst themselves while they made their way forward. Dwalin made to follow them when he realized I’d stayed put to stare at the door. “Lass?”

I gave him an impish smirk and gestured to the door with my head, where Bilbo was still yelling. “I want to see Gandalf’s face when he comes back in after Bilbo’s intense scolding.” He stared at me, like he was trying to see if I was serious. Just to prove a point, I took a seat on a desk, crossed my legs, and leaned against the wall. He shook his head and went back to rejoin the others.

I was expecting to be alone until the other two came back in, but it wasn't even a minute until I was joined by a particular hatted dwarf. Bofur carried two plates full of meat, and was kind enough to have added mashed potatoes and rolls to one of them. "You've never eaten with dwarves before, have ya Lassie?" I shook my head while taking the plate not meant for a carnivore. "If ya don't get a plate at the start, ya don't get a plate at all!"

I laughed and thanked him. "Thank you very much, Master Dwarf. I shall make careful note of that for future reference. Katie, daughter of Candy, at your service!" I would have bowed, but frankly I didn't want to get up.

Bofur don't seem to mind, but then, I seem to remember him not minding a lot of things. He took off his hat and bowed deeply, sweeping his arm out behind him theatrically. "Bofur, son of Bomfur, at yours! I'll let the other lads introduce themselves later. Hope ye join us soon, Miss Katie!"

I waved him off and started eating. The ham was delicious, even if there wasn't any pineapple, and the mashed potatoes were just creamy enough to not seem mushy. It took close to three minutes for Bilbo and Gandalf to come back in. Their faces, respectively, were mildly content and mildly chastised. They must have come to some kind of agreement or truce, because Bilbo no longer seemed hostile.

They paused at seeing me. Bilbo's eyes narrowed at seeing me in his furniture, and I obediently hopped off. "Dwarves are all taken care of. Here, Bofur brought me a plate. You want any?" Both hobbit and wizard sent me nasty looks, and I hastily backtracked. "Or... not." I beat a hurried retreat and zipped back to the dining room.

Coincidentally, the only seat left open was between Fili and Kili. Bofur was in my old seat, and all three wore conspiratorial smiles. I grinned back and bounded over to my new placement. "Aw, lookit! My favorite dwarves have saved a seat chair for me!" I caught them both by the necks and hauled them in close to place a wet, slobbering kiss on their cheeks.

Fili grimaced but put up with it. Kili, on the other hand, squawked and broke away to rub forcefully at the site of contact. "Ew, Katie Cooties! Who knows what diseases you might have?"

I snickered at him and poked at his cheek, avoiding his beard. I thought it the best idea until I knew which customs were true rather than just headcanons people came up with. “I’m afraid there is no cure for the Katie Cooties. You have one minute to pass it on or bad stuff will happen!” Yes, I did totally just make a verbal chain letter. If you think I care, you obviously haven’t been paying attention.

Things just got better when Kili turned to the dwarf next to him, Gloin, and pulled him in close to plant a whiskery kiss on the shocked redhead’s cheek. “Katie Cooties, pass it on!” He shoved him away, into Oin’s side. Kili flashed me a mischievous grin and I threw my head back, cackling. This dwarf! Even if I hadn’t promised myself not to fall in love with them, Kili was already swiftly becoming like the little brother I’d never had.

I lost track of time after that. Most of the scenes I remembered from the movie were of the Company readying their feast and Bilbo chasing them around, trying to protect his stuff. Since I'd eliminated both elements, I was the tiniest bit lost on what to do. Should I plan on what to tell Thorin, or wing it? Should I pull Gandalf to an empty room and ask his opinion, or give him credible deniability if Thorin ever found out? There were too many possibilities and even more ways it could go wrong. Maybe this wasn't one of my best ideas....

Luckily, Fili and Kili weren't paying enough attention to notice my wandering mind. Though they sat on either side of me, that didn’t stop them from whacking each other behind my back and talking to each other. And the others, of course. Every time I saw this part, I wondered how long it had been since any of them had seen each other. Even Dwalin and Balin, brothers, had remarked on the supposed changes in each other. For many, if not all of them, this was as much a reunion as a business meeting.

The thought made my heart ache, for both them and myself. It was nearly six months from The Shire to Erebor, maybe a bit more. My family will likely suspect foul play almost immediately. In a way, I’m like Bilbo: I don’t venture too far out of my comfort zone. And disappearing in the middle of the night DEFINITELY not something I’d be likely to do without someone forcing it. How long would it take until I was declared dead? Would any of them hold onto hope of my survival?

I pictured them all, standing at a grave. Mama would be weeping, there’s no doubt about that. I was her baby, after all. She was forever telling me I’d always be her baby, even when I’m on my own and living my own life. And truthfully I’d always been okay with it. But now… I’d always said a parent should never be the one to bury their child. How cruel was the universe that my own mother would be subjected to it?

And frankly I didn’t even want to think about my dad’s reaction. He and I had always been close. It was a joke in my entire family. My brother and me look like our mother but act like our father. The three of us share the same sarcastic and slightly fucked up sense of humor. Like, there was a story once on the news about a dog being stuck down the well and my first response was to go ‘What’s that Timmy? Lassie’s stuck down a well?’ So yeah, fucked up.

As for my brother, well, we weren’t the closest of siblings, like Fili and Kili, but we got along alright when we were together. We laughed, we bickered, we teased. We very rarely fought, but that was more because of my non-confrontational personality. He was the backbone between us, always getting into fights or arguments. If anyone would think I was still alive, it would be him.

I was broken from my thoughts when Fili climbed on top of the table to pass out mugs of ale from dwarf to dwarf. “Here you go, lads! Drink up!” He offered one to me with a smirk, and in turn I glowered at him. It didn’t seem to phase him, for he shrugged and dropped back into his seat. How he did that without spilling anything, I will never know. “Suit yourself! You don’t know what you’re missing!”

If only Fili knew… I watched in mixed disgust and astonishment as all the dwarves knock back their drinks and chug. Half of the ale falls into their beards but the rest gets down in record time. Then came the burping contest in which little Ori is who won. The other dwarves cheered him on and I glanced at Dori to see what he thought. I wasn’t sure if I was surprised or not to see him looking less than displeased. “Come now, lads, we have a lady present!”

At once there was silence. The majority of the dwarves seemed guilty and uncomfortable, not quite meeting my eyes when I looked at them. Only Dwalin, Balin, Fili, Kili, and surprisingly Bofur were watching me with smirks and/or grins. Slowly I stood up, making sure to have each and every one of their attentions. I looked at the expectant brothers on either side of me, grinned, and let loose the biggest, loudest burp I could at the moment.

It was barely anything I usually did. With only milk to drink the entire day, I’m surprised I didn’t vomit over the entire table. However weak it was, though, it was enough to impress the dwarves. Dori gaped at me while the others roared in approval. No doubt I’d offended his delicate sensibilities. His wasn’t the only one either; I spied Bilbo staring at me from the corner of my eye only for him to dart out of the dining room into the parlor.

Worry gnawed at me, and I patted Fili and Kili on their shoulders. “I’mma check on Bilbo, okay?” They nodded in understanding, each giving a brief peek in the direction of the hobbit before returning to their conversations. I hurried after Bilbo and found him rubbing his face and leaning against a wall. “Bilbo? Are you alright?”  
It took a worrying few seconds for him to respond and when he did, he didn’t look at me. “The more time I spend with you, the more I think you’re secretly a dwarf.” Should I be offended? I feel like I should be offended. Bilbo finally looked at me, eyes narrowed and lips pressed tight. “What exactly was that repulsive display? Were you trying to prove yourself to them? Show that you’re just like them? Well you’re not! For one, you’re not a dwarf. For two, you’re a lady, and that was hardly lady like behavior!”

If I weren’t so amused at his rant, I’d have been a little miffed at that last part. “Were you there at all when I called that one burning pan a son of a goose-fucking dog turd?” Yes, yes he was, and he turned as red now as he had when I’d done it. “Yeah, I thought so. I might not be a dwarf, dear Bilbo, but I am most certainly not a lady.”

Bilbo sniffed and was about to respond when we were joined by a dwarf. More specifically, Ori. Even more specifically, Ori who carried a plate in his hands. Excitement made my eyes widen even as he shuffled awkwardly at the sudden attention. "Pardon me, I'm sorry to interrupt, but what should I do with my plate?"

I made sure to smile as gently as I could at the shy dwarf. Ori's confidence was a middle tier goal of mine. I refused to let the Battle of Five Armies be the reason he carried himself taller. "You aren't interrupting, sweetheart. The kitchen is right through there. Just leave it by the-"

And that is when Fili popped up wearing a wide grin, just as he had in the movie. "Here you go, Ori, give it to me!" He plucked the plate from startled hands only to chuck it to where his brother stood.

Bilbo cried out as the dwarves all started throwing his dishes around. It wasn't the fine antique ones, I made sure of that, but they were important enough for the hobbit to scurry after them. I followed after the flustered hobbit in time to hear the rhythmic pounding of feet, fists, and shinging of knives. "Would you please not do that? You'll blunt them!"

Bofur winked at my wide eyes and growing smile and turned to the others. "Oh, do you hear that lads? He says we'll blunt the knives!"

Kili popped up right next to me, startling a laugh. He snickered wildly at me before hooking our arms together at the elbow and bursting out, _"Blunt the knives, bend the forks!”_

Fili appeared just as suddenly as before, grinning as widely as his brother, and took my other arm. " _Smash the bottles and burn the corks!_ " Everyone joined together for the next line. " _Chip the glasses and crack the plaaaates! That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!_ "

And just like that, all of the others whipped out their instruments and struck up a tune. Fili and Kili spun me around in a circle, not missing a beat the entire time. " _Cut the cloth and trail the fat! Leave the bones on the bedroom mat! Pour the milk on the pantry floor! Splash the wine on every door!_ ”

My arms were released and I shook my head, trying to get rid of the dizziness, only to yelp when Kili swept me up into his arms and tossed me to Fili, much like they had that morning. They passed me back and forth and even occasionally to the other dwarves, never fumbling or dropping me. I would congratulate them if I wasn't afraid of biting off my tongue.

" _Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl. Pound them up with a thumping pole! And when you've finished, if they are whoooole. Send them down the hall to roll!_ "

I was spun out on my feet in time to dizzily cry out, “ _That’s what Bilbo Baggins hates!_ ” The dwarves cheered for me and I laughed with them all, only to collapse against the nearest dwarf. It was one of the ones I haven’t spoken to yet, Bifur. The axe in his head was rightly terrifying, but I knew he was just a giant teddy bear on the inside. “Whoops!” I snickered, legs shaking as I tried to right myself. “Sorry ‘bout that, Master Dwarf!”

Bifur smiled widely at that and made some gestures while speaking their language. I didn’t understand a single word, but I got the feeling the basic gist was ‘no need to apologize’. The dwarves around us were laughing, and I didn’t particularly care if it was at me or Bilbo’s face. We were happy and light and that’s all that mattered.

At least, we _were_ happy and light, until three dull knocks pounded on the front door. All the laughter stopped like it was never there, and in the sudden silence I irrationally feared the dwarves could hear just how hard my heart was pounding. Gandalf met my nervous gaze solemnly and intoned somberly, “He is here.”

I’m fucked. I’m so fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words on Google Docs: 4233  
> Pages on Google Docs: 8
> 
> Me: A monster chapter for all of you! I hope you had as much fun reading this as I did writing it. I'm sorry if I went a little heavy on the accents for the dwarves. If any of you guys feel like changes need to be made, feel free to comment and I'll take it into consideration!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Fili is a meat shield, Kili is an idiot, and Thorin's general mood goes from 'fuck the what' to 'what the fuck'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's been a while since the last update but I have a few legitimate reasons! One, I was in a car crash near the end of August and my arm hurt too much from bruises and burns from the airbag to get much typing done. Then I sliced open my finger on glass (note: pointer finger on my dominant hand) and it still gets tender at times. Then we got a new manager at work who put me on more hours than days when I'd prefer less hours but more days so I've been grumpy at that.
> 
> But here it is, finally, chapter 5 of Expect the Unexpected! Enjoy everyone!

I didn’t have time for a proper freak out. Kili latched onto me with both hands and dragged me forward, talking too quickly for me to understand. I very much disliked having my own tactic used against me, but I wasn’t necessarily upset with him. Kili was just genuinely excited. We led the pack with Fili right behind me. The blond dwarf had calmed down a bit and was more silent in his amusement now. If I didn’t know who was behind that door, his sudden mood swing would have caught me by surprise. For the sake of appearances, I gave him a confused look. He winked at me but did nothing else.

Kili let me go once we stopped. I was behind Gandalf when he opened the door, and so I couldn’t immediately see Thorin. I could imagine him though, and that suited me just fine at the moment. “Gandalf.” His deep voice went a shiver down my spine, one I couldn’t stop or hide in time. Luckily none of the others noticed the rather odd reaction. “I thought you said this place would be easy for me to find. I lost my way, twice.”

Thorin stepped into the smial then, already removing his cloak. I thought I’d prepared myself to at least see him, but I was oh so very wrong. Thorin’s hair was black as opposed to Kili’s dark brown, and shots of silver ran through the bangs. His beard was cropped short to his chin, too even to be anything other than deliberate, and his blue eyes were piercing even when they weren’t looking at me.

Earlier I'd compared Fili's eyes to his. Looking between them now, I could see how different they actually were. They were similar in color, yes, but somehow Thorin's were a darker shade. Fili's had reminded me of the sky; Thorin's reminded me of the ocean.

Kili scurried forward to take his cloak with the adoring look of a puppy welcoming it's master home. The comparison wasn't very far off either. Thorin gave it wordlessly, but I noticed how his entire face softened when met with his nephew. Rather than being a normal person and putting it with the other cloaks, Kili held onto it like it was a celebrity's used towel. I smirked and nudged him when Thorin turned away, whispering when I had his attention, "You are such a fanboy."

He made a face and stuck his tongue out at me, prompting me to return the gesture and turn back to see Thorin already circling Bilbo. "So, this is the hobbit." Bilbo cast me a frightened look, prompting his interrogator to follow his gaze. I froze under the dwarf king's eyes and without thought or shame dove to hide behind Fili. I regretted it almost immediately when I heard Thorin snort in contempt and turn back to Bilbo. I was ready for him to insult me but when he spoke next, it was simply to ask the hobbit, "Axe or sword? Which is your weapon of choice?"

He'd completely ignored my existence. I was equally annoyed and relieved for that. Bilbo's answer was long in coming, and I lifted Fili's arm to peek out. My reaction had robbed him of any courage he'd gained. His face had paled considerably at being left on his own, and he wasn’t even fussing about Fili being downgraded to meat shield. "I have s-some skill in C-Conkers, if you must know." Bilbo stuttered. His eyes flitted about, searching for help. At realizing no one was coming to his rescue, he took a deep breath and met Thorin's eyes evenly. "I fail to see how that's relevant."

Thorin seemed far from impressed, even less so than he had in the movie. "I thought so. He looks more like a grocer than a burglar." Bilbo's shoulders dropped and the dwarves all around me chuckled. Not one of them even tried to defend him. I'd hoped his lack of fuss about his things would earn him some respect, but obviously it took more than that to get on their good sides.

I felt an unexpected rush of fury at all of them and stepped out from behind Fili, taking a few strides forward to get away from the crowd. Their attention practically snapped to me, all except for Thorin who kept his eyes on Bilbo. Putting all of my annoyance and irritation in my voice, I growled, “And you look more like a beggar than a king.” There was a simultaneous hiss of everyone sucking in breath at the same time. Thorin’s shoulders stiffened, and he slowly turned to glare heatedly at me. I stayed put this time, meeting his scowl with one of my own. “I guess not all appearances are as deceiving as Bilbo’s.”

The anger in his eyes was upgraded to fury, even as his kin shifted uneasily away from the two of us. I was almost glad they wouldn’t interfere. Despite the rage in his expression and posture, his voice was steady when he spoke to me. “And who, girl, are you?”

I kept my voice clipped, saying in four words just how much he didn’t deserve to know my name. “Katie, daughter of Candy.” The customary ‘at your service’ was left out on purpose, and the darkening of his eyes said he heard the unsaid insult.

I guess I was right when I worried for my self preservation those few days ago. Eh heh. Oops?

Gandalf was practically begging me to play nice. His eyes were wide as they stared straight at me, and his grip on his staff was so tight his knuckles were white. All he needed to do was hold his hands together in front of him to complete the picture. Too bad for him I didn’t really want to play nice.

To give him credit, at least Thorin wasn’t yelling. I’d expected him to be cursing me in their dwarfish tongue or something. Maybe women were so respected in their society that even the thought of cursing at one would be horrible. “And why, Katie, daughter of Candy, are you here?”

Remember when I said I’d get revenge on Gandalf for saying I wasn’t subtle? My mouth decided now was the perfect time for it without asking my input. In the same clipped tone as before, I announced to all gathered, “Gandalf kidnapped me.” Thorin was visibly taken off guard by the proclamation, blinking and wide eyed.

Gandalf spluttered even as all the dwarves murmured and snickered amongst themselves. Many of them must have realized I was merely messing around. A grin slipped onto my face, confusing the dwarf in front of me even more. At about that time, Gandalf recovered enough to deny vehemently, “I did _not_ kidnap you!” He seemed as offended by the suggestion as he had the first time I’d made it, when we first met after I woke up.

Good, that made this even better for me. Still looking directly at Thorin, I told the dwarf, “It’s almost insulting how stupid he seems to think I am.”

The beginnings of a smirk curled on his face, and suddenly I could see the resemblance to Kili as well as Fili. It was startling, for more than one reason. "He has a talent for that, it seems." Gandalf wasn't the only one incoherent at this point. I very distinctly heard Fili and Kili choking behind me, vibrating with silent laughter. "Still, I must give the wizard some benefit of the doubt. Why do you say he kidnapped you?"

Gandalf puffed himself up at that, sure I wouldn't have any evidence against him. Rather than give in so easily, I counted on my fingers, "One, I was removed from my place of rest by magical means against my will. Two, I was moved to a place I couldn't have gotten out of without help. Three, Gandalf just happened to be there and the only person around _to_ help me." You know, though, now I was curious. Looking back at the old wizard, I asked, "Hey though, how _did_ you know where to find me if you didn't kidnap me?"

He curled around his staff sheepishly and grinned at me half-heartedly. Apparently he already knew where I was trying to steer the conversation and realized how it might look on him. "The Valar gave me a vision of a forest and a young woman, the night after I met Thorin in Bree four months ago. The timing was too perfect to be a coincidence. I believe they wish for young Katie to join us on our quest."

Silence. Even Fili and Kili had stopped laughing to turn a disbelieving eye on Gandalf. I gave everyone a few seconds to let that sink in before chirping brightly, "Good enough for me! Now you, I have a serious question for." Thorin turned back to me, and his eyes narrowed for reasons I’m not sure of. Maybe that was just his ‘resting bitch face’. The air turned anticipatory, everyone waiting to see what was important enough to wipe all smiles from my face. Thorin must have sensed how seriously his kin were taking it and nodded gravely for me to go on. Really, they all should know better by now. "Why the _fuck_ are you taller than me?"

_THE FACE HE MADE._ I wish you could have seen it. It was the single most greatest what-in-the-fuck face I have ever received from anybody. Whether it was his face or my question, I will never know, but one of them finally made Kili absolutely lose it. He bent over double, laughing so hard he was actually wheezing and making almost no noise. Fili was about as well off, but Kili was the one I whirled on, turning my back on Thorin in the process in a show of trust. “Shut up, okay?! It’s not funny! My brother already used to make fun of me for being short! Do you know how bad he’s going to tease me when he learns there are actually multiple dwarves taller than me?!”

It didn’t help. If nothing else, he laughed harder. I’m pretty sure at this point everyone EXCEPT Thorin was expecting me to tackle the young prince, and who was I to disappoint them? Kili didn’t even get the benefit of a war cry this time. I just lunged and took him down to the floor. He wasn’t even trying to defend himself, instead just halfheartedly shoving my hands and arms away. We rolled around with the Company moving out of the way, hooting and hollering and cheering for either me or Kili. Curiously, Thorin’s voice was absent.

Neither of us paid any attention to where we were going, and as such were caught by surprise when we rolled right into the wall. The more immediate problem, however, was the crack of a shelf breaking overhead. Kili was still laughing too hard to do much of anything, and frankly I’m not even sure he noticed. I had a split second to react, and I did so instinctively by throwing myself on top of him, shielding his head and shoulders.

Less than a second later, I realized how stupid that was. He was a dwarf, and as such had a far thicker skull than me. Unfortunately I didn’t have time to move out of the way. I don’t even know what fell on me or how much there was, but it hurt. Something with a corner smashed into my head, and if I hadn’t already been squeezing my eyes shut I don’t doubt I would have seen stars.

For 20 seconds things rained down on us. When they were done, there was a split second of silence before anyone reacted. In fact, the quiet was broken by myself, who hastily scrambled off of Kili and pulled him up, inspecting his face and head as much with my hands as my eyes. “Are you hurt? Did any of them get you?” He was worryingly pale with eyes wide. “Say something Kili!”

He did, but it wasn’t what I was expecting. “You’re bleeding.” His hand extended towards my face and when he pulled back, there was a bit of blood on the tips. I blinked at it and touched my scalp, where the corner had smacked me, and flinched away from the minute sting. “Oin, she’s bleeding!”

The panic in his voice broke the others from their stunned stupor, and they all surged forward trying to talk over each other. Here’s the thing you guys probably don’t know about me: I hate crowds. I hate the feeling of being boxed in by people, of being watched and judged for every word, gesture, and mistake. My grip on Kili tightened and I shrank against him, trying to shield myself from all of their eyes. Whether he understood my reaction or not, soon his arm went around my shoulders and he let me hide my face in his shoulder.

Oin had to force himself through with elbows and kicks, a bag swinging around his shoulder. “Move it, coming through! Give the lass some air, dammit!” Mahal, Durin, Eru, I don’t care who it is, but someone please bless this magnificent healer for making them all back off. He kneeled next to us and took one look at the wound before snorting. “It’s only a head wound. They always bleed more than anywhere else.” Bifur grunted in affirmation at that, like Oin’s word wasn’t enough. I guess the axe-headed dwarf would know better than anyone. He poked at the skin around my wound, ignoring my whine, before rooting around in his supplies and bringing up a square of gauze and a roll of bandages.

Kili nudged me off him and gave me an apologetic grin with he spotted my betrayed look. Oin was quick in applying pressure and winding the bandages around my head with instructions to tell him if I felt dizzy or confused. I couldn’t help snorting and giving him a cheeky look. “I live in a constant haze of confusion, Master Oin. I imagine you’d get sick of me before the night ended if I told you every time I got muddled.”

I made to stand up and grabbed the first hand that appeared, not even checking to see who it belonged to. Imagine my shock when I realized it was Thorin Oakenshield who was pulling me up. He let my hand go afterwards but didn’t look away, brow furrowed in thought. “Why did you do that? He’s a dwarf. None of those would have hurt him.” I glanced at the scattered pile of things and realized it had been a shelf of books to collapse on us. 

My grin felt fake when I turned it on him, though I was truly sheepish. “Truthfully it was more instinct than actual thought. Don’t ask me how, but in the span of one night this absolute cretin has become like a little brother to me. I would have acted the same way were they arrows or knives." I hoped, at least. I knew myself well enough to be aware that I was a coward. "You’ll find, Master Oakenshield, my reactions are fueled more by instinct and reflex than forethought.”

The thoughtful frown on his face turned into a scowl, and he crossed his arms to make himself seem bigger. Or bring attention to his muscles. Both served to make him seem more intimidating. “And what of hiding behind Fili earlier? Is it reflex to hide behind the nearest friend at the first sign of possible danger?”

I thought about telling the truth, that frankly HE was the one that terrified me, but ultimately decided I liked living. “No, it’s reflex to hide from the disapproving dad stare.” I’m pretty sure he hadn’t meant to just let his entire face go slack. It wasn’t even a stoic unemotional face, just a deadpan ‘did this bitch just say that’ expression. For the second time in five minutes, I’d caught him off guard. Then my eyes found the narrowed gaze of one Bilbo Baggins and I pointed at him. “Now see, Bilbo has the perfect disapproving dad stare.”

The hobbit stepped around Thorin to no doubt scold me, but I sidestepped as well to keep the dwarf king in the middle of us and continued speaking like Steve Irwen. “Direct your attention to the narrowed eyes, flared nostrils, slowly reddening cheeks from mixed anger and embarrassment.” The hobbit took a step left, I took one right. "Aye, the perfect specimen, he is! Perhaps it's a sign among his species that he's searching for a suitable mate!"

The red in Bilbo's cheeks advanced, and he facepalmed before taking a deep breath. "Master Oakenshield, I apologize for her childishness. If you would see fit to move aside so that I might _hit her_ , I would be extremely grateful." Frankly I don't know what I'm more surprised by, the request itself or that Thorin actually moved. "Much obliged." And like a crow on carrion, the tiny person swooped in to slap me on the arm. I'm pretty sure if he could reach it he would have slapped me upside the head. "How many times today have I told you no roughhousing? No, no sass, just tell me. How many times?"

I looked up and squinted, as if that would help me remember. "Erm... I think three, maybe four times? Kili?" I looked at the amused dwarf in question, who shook his head and held up two fingers. “Really? Only twice? It felt like more." I turned back to Bilbo who looked equally fondly exasperated and fed up with my antics. “So twice.”

Rather than directly reply to me, Bilbo threw his hands in the air like he just didn't care and turned to jab the stunned Thorin on the shoulder. "She's your problem now. I wash my hands of her and her shenanigans."

I gasped dramatically at that, and I think it was a sign of how used to me he'd become that Bilbo didn't even pause in his stomping away. "You don't mean that! You love me!" No reaction. Not deterred, I gave Kili a wide-eyed wretched look. "Kili, Papa Bilbo doesn't love me anymore!"

I started dry sobbing, wishing more than anything that I was more proficient in crying on cue. The lack of tears didn't stop him from joining in on my act. Kili pulled me to him and pet my head, making shushing noises and rocking me back and forth like a mother would her babe. "Who needs that stinky old hobbit anyway when you have awesome brothers like me and Fili around?!"

Another hand joined Kili in the patting and Fili's voice joined in with the crooning. "Yeah, that's right! Mother has always wanted a daughter. She'll be ecstatic that we took it on ourselves to adopt a sister!"

I stopped 'crying' immediately to shoot Fili a wide eyed look. "Do free piggy backs come with that? Because piggy backs are the awesomest way to travel.” His response was to laugh and turn around, presenting his back in a wordless invitation. I squealed in happiness and transferred myself from Kili’s chest to Fili’s back, wrapping my arms around his neck and locking my knees on his waist. I barely caught sight of his devilish smile before he lurched to his feet in one movement, almost knocking me off.

I cursed at him damn near instantly, and almost as instantly he was laughing at me. “Where to, my lady? Your wish is my command!” I hummed and looked around, searching for an idea. The others had separated now, waiting for my episode of stupidity to be over. They should have moved to the dining room by now to discuss Thorin’s meeting with the dwarf lords, but had instead stayed around to witness my newest mischief. Dwalin and Thorin were whispering to each other, their eyes on the me and the princes. Thorin’s expression was a mixture of annoyance, confusion, and curiosity. No doubt wondering who the hell I was that his nephews were already so attached to me.

That gave me an idea, and I pointed passed Fili towards to the kitchen. "To the kitchen! I wanna see if we still have stuff to feed Thorin since Gandalf gave him shitty directions."

I almost expected Gandalf to start protesting again, but all he did was give a long suffering sigh. No, the one to speak up was surprisingly Dwalin, who scowled at me. "Oh I see how it is. He gets the respect and kindness while I get Erdwalin."

Fili was already moving when I gripped his shoulders and bent backwards to look at the bald warrior upside down. It was probably impossible to take me seriously, but that was good. I didn't want them to take me seriously. "That's because he's prettier than you are!"

The golden-haired prince almost tripped when he heard that but kept walking.The jerking caused my hands to slip and I would have fallen on my head again had Kili not been following us. The younger dwarf was practically quivering with restrained humor when he asked, "Did you just make a pass at my more-than-thrice your age uncle?"

I grinned at him as best I could without letting go of Fili. "Age doesn't matter. So long as both are legal and consenting adults, I see no problem. And is it really a pass if I’m simply stating the truth? Thorin _is_ prettier than Dwalin." We passed into the kitchen with the two dwarves giggling like a pair of school girls to find Bilbo already puttering around. He had a pot of water boiling and was in the process of seasoning a steak when we walked in, and I would have whistled had I been able to. "Wow. I didn't think we had this much left over."

Bilbo sniffed at me and sprinkled something on the beef without looking up. "Did you really think I'd clean out my own pantry to feed a bunch of strangers? I still have an entire cupboard left of food. Now get out of my kitchen before you break something! Go tell Master Oakenshield he is going to have a steak sprinkled with sage and parsley and a side of homemade mashed potatoes. Now all of you, out! Shoo!"

He chased us out by waving a towel and threatening to smack us. It probably wouldn't have hurt them, but none of us wanted to chance it hitting my head. The boys backpedaled and allowed themselves to be herded like cattle to the dining room, where everyone was settling in. Three spots had been left for us, but they weren't the same as before. The arrangements had shifted now to show ranks.

Gandalf was sitting separate from the table to show his neutrality. Or it was the only Big Person chair in the smial and he couldn't be arsed to move it. Personally I thought the latter, but if I asked he’d probably say the former because ‘wizards act as the impartial hand of the Valar’ or some mystical bullshit like that.

As First Advisor and Head Guard, Balin and Dwalin were immediately seated to Thorin's right and left hand, respectively. The two empty seats were next to Balin, showing the two's royal status as princes. They were opposite Gloin and Oin, though I don't know if that was as the Banker and Healer or cousins to Thorin. That left the Ri brothers and the Ur brothers to sit at the end, of the lowest rankings. My seat was between Bofur and Nori, which surprised me a bit. Not that I was of a low rank, but that I was allowed to sit at all. I had always thought the reason Bilbo hadn't joined the table in the movie was because there hadn't been enough chairs, but now... Was it just a matter of respect?

Fili crouched so I could get off his back, and I patted his shoulder in thanks before slipping off and sliding behind people. Wisely I decided not to go on the Ur side because I would have had to climb over Bombur to reach it. When I was seated, I looked around to see everyone watching me, like they were waiting for my reaction to my rank. "Erm... hi?"

There was a noticeable slump of relief to more than one of them. Strangely enough, Bofur was one of them. I cocked my head at him and blinked, and the hatted dwarf was kind enough to explain. "We was worried you'd be offended at being sat with the lowest of the low. That is, the miners and tinkers."

Nori leaned closer from my other side to add his own two cents, a gleam of mischief in his eyes. "And the thieves! We’re people too you know! Don't know why you'd be offended though when we're such wonderful folk." Dori scoffed from the other side of the table and Nori tensed, but my giggling distracted him. "Nori, son of Rona, at your service lass! Whatever those services may be." He wiggled his ridiculous eyebrows and I could practically feel the disapproval from half of the room.

Not Bofur though. His chuckling joined my giggling and he would have spoken had Dwalin not chosen that moment to throw an annoyed look our way . Balin was the one to pointedly ask in the following silence, “What news from the meeting in Ered Luin? Did they all come?”

Thorin sipped on a cup of ale, keeping one eye on the kitchen where we heard Bilbo messing with stuff noisily. "Aye, envoys from all seven kingdoms." There were mumbles from the rest, sounds of excitement and hope. Why they thought he had good news to tell them I could never quite know. Maybe that frown really was his resting bitch face and he wore it even when he was giving happy news.

Dwalin was the next to speak directly to their leader. "What do the dwarves of the Iron Hills say? Is Dain with us?"

Thorin was taking his sweet time responding, quite unlike what had happened in the movie. I gave him a minute, but all he'd done was drink more and avoid Dwalin's eyes. I decided then to take the brunt of their disappointment and slowly answered for him, keeping my gaze on Thorin's form. "I don't know who this Dain is... but from your body language, I'm guessing he ditched us?"

Durin blue eyes jumped to meet mine. I expected anger, perhaps indignation for me answering for him. But all he did was nod, drawing a growl of ire from the bald warrior. "He says this quest is ours and ours alone." More grumbling from the peanut gallery. Thorin let them grumble before addressing me. "What do you know of our purpose?"

It made them all shut up and look intently at me, and I would have been nervous had both Nori and Bofur not brushed their arms against mine. Whether it was an accident or an act of comfort I don't know, but it helped me calm down and answer Thorin without stuttering and stumbling. "I know you're the leader of Ered Luin and you're a king by blood, if not by circumstance, and that our goal lies to the East. That's all Gandalf has told me, though not without me asking. He said stuff about me needing to hear it from you, that it's your quest and he's just helping it along and blah blah blah. Kind of tuned him out then."

The wizard scowled at me, but dropped it when Bilbo came in carrying a loaded plate of food. "You're going on a quest?" He didn't sound curious or excited, like some people said he was in their fanfictions. He sounded worried and afraid. I wondered why for a moment until he cast a frightened look in my direction. My chest simultaneously warmed and tightened when I realized he was afraid _for me_.

Gandalf and Thorin exchanged looks and the taller male hedged, "Bilbo, let us have a little more light." The hobbit scurried away and came back lighting a candle in the span it took for Gandalf to retrieve an old piece of parchment. My heart pounded in my chest and I stood to get a better look at the inking on it. "Far to the east, over ranges and rivers, lies a single solitary peak."

Bilbo leaned slightly to read aloud, "The Lonely Mountain." I whined to get his attention and made a small grabby motion to the map. He rolled his eyes and chided, "Use your words, young lady. It wouldn't kill you to say please."

Despite his annoyance, he lightly slid the map over to me. It stopped perfectly in front of me, and I had to wonder just how Conkers worked if Bilbo had known just how much force to use and just which angle to slide it at. "You never know. I could be deathly allergic to manners and using the p word might cause my that to swell and block off air. Then I would slowly die a horrible painfilled death and it would be all your fault."

I could barely concentrate enough to make the sassy reply. The map of Middle Earth was almost as iconic as the green door to Bag End, perhaps even more so. I wanted to run my fingers over it, but I didn’t want to damage it in any way. Instead I examined it. It didn’t look anything like I had always imagined, but that’s because I couldn’t ever remember what the map actually looked like. I had wanted to inconspicuously find a place I could say I was fro, but this was a smaller scale map that only showed parts of Middle Earth. I’d have to look at a fuller one later. No doubt Bilbo had a few lying around.

The meeting had gone on while I was preoccupied. Oin and Gloin were already speaking about the portents, so I slid the map along the table aiming for Gandalf. I overshot it though and Thorin had to slap a hand on it to keep it from falling. He glared in irritation and I ducked my head in silent apology, smiling sheepishly. The exchange took less than five seconds, and I tuned back to hear Oin go, “...the reign of the beast will end!”

Bilbo squeaked at that and spluttered, “A beast? What beast? Are you talking about that dragon in the corner of that map?” Well he hadn’t said _that_ in the movie…

Bofur took out his pipe and set to cleaning it out, far too nonchalant and casual for the matter at hand. “Aye, that would be a reference to Smaug the Terrible, chiefest and greatest calamity of our age. Airborne firebreather, teeth like razor, claws like meat hooks, extremely fond of precious metals-”

The hobbit cut him off and seemed far more perturbed than I thought was warranted. “Yes, I do believe I just demonstrated I know what a dragon is. What I’m trying to figure out is why that would cause 13 dwarves-”

He was interrupted when Ori abruptly stood up, eyes shining in enthusiasm to impress the elders. “I’m not afraid, I’m up for it! I’ll give him a taste of the old dwarvish iron right up his jacksie!”

The others jeered and cheered, but my voice overpowered even Dori’s when he pulled his baby brother back into his seat. “I’m pretty sure that’s illegal in everywhere but Rohan!” A vast majority of the dwarves burst out laughing, including Gloin and excluding Dori and Ori. And three others, but I hardly feel the need to mention Balin, Dwalin, and Thorin.

Once they'd all calmed down a bit, Balin brought everyone back on topic. "The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us, but we number just 13. And not 13 of the best, or the brightest." And if his eyes flitted to specific dwarves at the observation, well, I wasn't going to be the one to call him out on it.

Everyone else made enough noise that I doubted I’d be heard anyway. Protests rang on both sides of the table, led by Nori and Bofur. "Hey, who you calling dim?!" The thief cried, insulted. 

They silenced when Fili pounded on the table, and I spotted Bilbo wince at the disrespect of his furniture. Note to self, make Fili apologize later. "We might be few in numbers, but we're fighters, all of us! To the last dwarf!" I raised my eyebrows and cleared my throat pointedly, crossing my arms. The blonde was quick to amend his statement. "And Miss Katie, of course. She's got a fighter’s spirit, even if she’s not strong enough to lift one of my daggers.”

Thank you Fili for the underhanded compliment. I glowered at him and would have responded in kind had Kili not spoken, and his words made me snort and cover my mouth to hide my shit eating grin. “And you forget we have a wizard in our company! Gandalf would have killed hundreds of dragons in his time!”

Panic flared in Gandalf’s eyes for but the briefest moment but it was enough to make me choke on a laugh. “Oh, well, I wouldn’t say…” He trailed off and avoided eye contact by messing with his pipe, grinding the weed inside and lighting it. I would have spoken but I was too busy busting a lung trying not to laugh.

Dori leaned toward the wizard and inquired, “How many then?” Gandalf hummed in question, and Dori specified, “How many dragons have you killed? Go on, give us a number!” The wizard choked on his pipe and the dwarves all stood up, shouting and arguing about exactly how many dragons Gandalf has killed.

All of my amusement was wiped out from the sudden roar and I clapped my hands to my ears and squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block them all out. I hate it when people are yelling. People yell when they aren’t happy, and I don’t like it when people aren’t happy. Usually they look for someone to blame, and usually that person is me.

“ _ **Shazara!**_ ”

Thorin’s loud yell silenced everyone immediately, and as such I’m sure everyone heard my puff of relief. I sat back up normally and realized everyone’s eyes were on me, even Thorin’s. I felt my face flush at the sudden attention and darted my eyes around, instinctively looking for a way out. “I… um… sorry…” I bowed my head, not sure what else to say to make them move on and stop staring.

It took longer than I was comfortable with, but Thorin finally went on with his speech. “If we have read these signs, do you not think others will have read them too? Rumors have begun to spread. The dragon has not been seen for 60 years. Eyes look east, wondering, assessing, weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lays unprotected. Do we sit back while others claim what is ours? Or do we take this chance to take back Erebor? **Du bekar! Du bekar!** ”

The cheer was repeated by the others and I plastered on a smile, wanting to get back to normal with them and for them to forget my weak moment. “Yeah, do ba-whatever!” Laughter was my response and I breathed a silent sigh of relief. The only ones to not smile or laugh were Thorin and surprisingly Kili, who frowned at me. I didn’t want to draw attention to it so I merely tilted my head at him and blinked. He glanced around at the others and shook his head the slightest bit, making me narrow my eyes but shrug.

For those who don’t read silent conversations, here’s what went on:

Me: _“What's wrong?”_

Kili: _“Too many people, talk later.”_

Me: _“If you say so.”_

Thorin was the only one to catch on, and his frown deepened more. Likely he wasn’t used to anyone besides Fili having silent conversations with his younger nephew. Honestly I would have tried the same thing with him but Balin chose that moment to bring everyone back on track. “You forget, the front gate is sealed! There is no way into the mountain.”

Gandalf took his pipe away from his mouth to grin at the old dwarf. “That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true.” With a clever sleight of hand, he pulled an old key from seemingly nowhere.

And just so he didn’t get a big head about it, I pointed at him and said bluntly, “I saw that. You are so not as sneaky as you seem to think.”

I was ignored. Naturally. Thorin only had eyes for the key, and I had to wonder if he knew actually what it was. I mean, he didn’t know about the hidden entrance, he didn’t know about the map. Why did he seem so in awe of such an old looking trinket? “How came you by this?” he breathed in a whisper.

Gandalf’s smile turned soft rather than smug and I had to marvel at the transformation. It made the lines on his grizzled old face more pronounced and he seemed more a grandfather now than he did before. “It was given to me by your father, Thrain, for safekeeping. It is yours now.” With a solemness that didn’t really match the simple gesture, Gandalf handed it over. Music played in my head to make the scene more dramatic and I internally giggled.

The silence was broken by Fili, who too was looking at the key. “If there’s a key… there must be a door.”

It was the obvious answer, but also not the only one and I felt the need to throw out as well, if only to remind them all to keep an open mind. “Or a chest.” They all turned to look at me and I shrugged, blinking innocently at them. “What? To kill a dragon we’d need a powerful weapon, and something like that would have to be hidden away long ago to prevent evil hands from acquiring it. Who better to protect something like than a wizard?”

There was some grumbles, either discussing the possibility or disagreeing with it. Gandalf’s eyes were on me and I met them with raised eyebrows. He was looking at me like he had in the Prancing Pony, like he was trying to look into my very soul to see what made me tick. I honestly got the feeling he hadn’t taken me seriously about being a good liar until that moment. “An interesting theory, but wrong nonetheless.” I glowered at him for parroting the words of our first meeting and he very pointedly looked away, back at Thorin. “These runes speak of a hidden passage to the lower halls."

Kili clapped his brother excitedly and declared for all to hear, "There's another way in!" He threw me such a smug look that I had to laugh. "Fili was riiight, you were wrooong!" He singsonged. It only made me laugh harder, and him making ridiculous faces didn't help either. Only when Fili elbowed Kili did either of us notice the glare Dwalin and Thorin were sending us. We settled for sticking our tongues out at each other before aiming twin innocent looks at the warriors and I swear to God there was a smile hovering on Thorin's lips even as he rolled his eyes in a rather unkingly way.

Gandalf was quick to move the meeting on and responded to Kili’s statement, eyes sparkling in merry humor. "Well if we can find it, but dwarf doors are invisible when closed. The secrets lie hidden somewhere in this map and I have not the skills to find it!" There was a slump in shoulders all around and Gandalf hurried to reassure them. "But there are others in Middle Earth who can!" Like a certain elf lord. "The task I have in mind requires a great deal of stealth and no small amount of courage. But I believe if we are quick and clever, it can be done."

A look of realization dawned on multiple faces and little Ori explained for everybody, "That's why we need a burglar!"

Bilbo rocked back on his large feet and innocently agreed. "Mhm, and a good one I imagine!" He looked at me, as if he thought _I_ was the burglar they spoke of. I leaned back in my seat with crossed arms and raised an eyebrow at him. It took a moment of confusion before clarity made his eyes go wide. "Me? You want _me_ as your burglar?!" Gandalf threw Thorin a look that marginally confused me, but it dropped into a disappointed one when Bilbo flustered on. "I can't be a burglar! I've never stolen a thing in my life!"

Balin hummed and stared at Bilbo for a few minutes before sighing and looking around at the Company. "I have to agree with Master Baggins. He's hardly burglar material."

Bilbo nodded furiously, as if doing so would make him even less of a burglar. Dwalin stared at Bilbo as well, and I wasn't the only one surprised by what he said next. "I'm not entirely sure about that, brother. You yourself witnessed how easily he hauled the girl off of Kili when he called her short." Kili opened his mouth to say something, I have no idea what, but Dwalin silenced him with a single look. "The lad has a surprising backbone to him that you wouldn't expect at first glance. He isn't afraid of getting his hands dirty, I've seen that much. So have all of you, matter of fact!"

Multiple dwarves made sounds of confusion. I had a no idea what he was talking about, but I offered all the same, "Do you mean cooking all that food, keeping his entire home clean by himself, or dealing with my bullshit the entire day?"

Dwalin snorted at the third option and said with a smirk, "I was actually talking about him glaring and jabbing at Thorin earlier after ye threw yourself at Kili. But 'dealing with your bullshit', as you put it, certainly says a great deal about his character!" That it does, dear Dwalin, that it does.

Bilbo stuttered and grew even paler when he realized they were actually giving him consideration. "B-but I can't fight! And the world is dangerous outside of the Shire! Bandits and mercenaries and orcs and goblins and trolls! And then the wolves! Howling and baying with their teeth and claws... I would die before we even got passed the Old Forest!"

He was starting to hyperventilate as he spoke, and I stood so fast I knocked my chair over. It wasn't time for him to faint! The next second I was by his side, hands on his shoulders to make sure he looked at me. I kept my voice low and calm so as to avoid him panicking more. "Easy, Bilbo. Deep breaths. Breathe with me, okay?" I inhaled slowly, counted to 3 seconds, and let it go. It took a few minutes of repeating before Bilbo had calmed down enough to continue. "There you go. Better?"

He nodded, smiling sheepishly up at me. "Thank you. Sorry about that. I haven't had a panic attack since my parents died in the Fell Winter 34 years ago, when I was but a tween." Thorin aimed his darkening frown at Bilbo's back and I wish I knew what he was thinking. Did he think Bilbo was searching for sympathy? That the only reason he brought it up was to garner pity? I hope not. Bilbo was cunning, yes, but he wasn’t devious.

Part of me prayed that the frown was him realizing Bilbo wasn’t as sheltered as he first appeared. He might not have seen battles yet or outwitted trolls or riddled with Gollum, but he wasn’t without his scars. Nobody ever is. Pushing Thorin’s reaction from my mind, I patted Bilbo on the head like one does a child and said, “Don’t worry about it. I know from experience how hard it is to get through panic attacks on your own."

Thorin wasn't the only one who snapped attention to me. I did my best to ignore them as I went back to my seat. Kili was frowning at me again but looked away when I raised an eyebrow at him. This wasn't another silent exchange, this was Kili blatantly ignoring me. And I wasn't sure how much I liked it.

Gandalf brought me back to the matter at hand by directing the conversation back to canon. "I can see doubts still, but I assure you that Bilbo is the perfect person for the job. Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet, and can in fact pass unseen if they so choose. Smaug will know the smell of dwarf, but the scent of hobbit is all but unknown to him, which gives us a distinct advantage.”

He looked directly at Thorin as he continued. “You have asked me to find the fourteenth member of this Company and I have chosen Mister Baggins. There’s a lot more to him than appearances may suggest, and he has a great deal more to offer than any of you know, including himself.” A small staring contest between the king and the wizard has many of us squirming in our seats before Gandalf insisted, “You must trust me on this.”

Thorin is stubborn for only a few more moments before he sighs. “Fine, we will do it your way.” He wordlessly gestures for Balin to hand over the contract to Bilbo before his gaze once again finds me and pins me to my seat. “And you? Gandalf seems adamant that you join us, whether the Valar brought you here or not. It will be dangerous and for my peace of mind and your safety, you should stay here.”

I stared at him with a furrowed brow. That was… polite. Almost friendly. I’d expected him to flat out deny me being there. That’s how it always was in fanfictions. I mean I knew he was secretly nice, and that he was far kinder than he would have you believe, but this flat out pleasantness had me thrown. “Frankly Master Oakenshield,” I started slowly, looking down at the table in feigned thought, “I’m not entirely sure either of us have a choice in the matter.” Thorin made a questioning noise, causing me to look back up at him with a weak smirk. “I was brought here by magic, about a week ago, during my sleep. Have you ever been transported magically? No? I didn’t think so. Let me tell you, dearie, it fucking _hurts_.”

Perhaps the endearment was a bit too much, as it made Thorin’s eyebrow rocket up and I very distinctly heard Dwalin choke on a laugh. Ah well. Doesn’t mean I’ll stop in the future. “If I can avoid doing that again, then by Gods I will do everything within my power to. I’m pretty sure had I vomited a few feet to the left Gandalf would have had to wash his cloak.” Various dwarves exclaimed in disgust at the TMI, but it got my point across quite well. “If you want I’ll sign a contract, but it isn’t necessary. I have no need for anything within that mountain.”

Something in his expression shifted, something I couldn’t put a word to. It perplexed me, but Bilbo chose that moment to speak out. He’d been reading through the contract this entire time and had only just gotten to the point of funeral arrangements. “Incineration?!”

Bofur nodded and took his pipe from his mouth to explain. “Oh aye! He’ll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye!” Bilbo started hyperventilating again and bent over, taking deep breaths like I’d shown him. He waved off Balin’s concerns only for Bofur to continue on. “Think furnace with wings!” Bilbo was shaking and backing away from us all, as if our stupidity was contagious. "Flash of light, searing pain, then poof! You're nothing more than a pile of ash!"

Bilbo straightened up and I stood up to go to him when he chirped, "Nope!", and fainted.

I sighed and slapped Bofur upside the head. "You have absolutely zero tact, did you know that Master Dwarf?" I growled to him. He rubbed his head with a sheepish grin and I turned from him to look at the eldest Ri brother. "I'm sorry, I'm not sure I caught your name?" He introduced himself as Dori, son of Rona, with a raised eyebrow. "Did I see you earlier with a cup of tea? Do you think you could heat up a cup for when Bilbo wakes up?"

He nodded and stood with me, heading towards the kitchen while I went to Bilbo. "Fili and Kili, a little help?" They bounced up at the sound of their names and came by my side. "Fili, grab his arms. Kili, his legs. I'm gonna go set up his couch for him." They each nodded and stood at their respective spots while I went to the sitting room. A pillow went to the end and I unfolded a blanket to be laid over him. "Okay, it's ready!"

They brought him in and I directed them on how to lay him. "Put the pillow under his knees to prop them up. The blanket will go over him afterwards." The brothers exchanged glances before shrugging and did as I said. "Thank you. Now shoo! I'll sit with Bilbo until he wakes." Fili nodded and went away easily enough but Kili lingered, staring at me with narrowed eyes. "I'm not avoiding our talk. We can have it later."

He stared longer before sighing grumpily. "Fine. But I'm holding you to it!" I saluted to him and he huffed, going to follow his fair-haired brother. I settled down to wait, sighing. The night has only just started and I could tell it would be a long one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pages on Google Docs: 16  
> Words on Google Docs: 8377
> 
> I know Thorin's easy acceptance might seem a bit OOC but I promise you I have a reason! Aside from the otherused 'gasp this complete stranger I just met is the most beautiful person ever she must be my One' thing you see everywhere. It will be unveiled next chapter, which is already underway! So stay tuned for the next chapter (where I PROMISE we will finally get on the road!)
> 
> Also, the part of me throwing myself on top of Kili was based on a true story. I'd been tickling a boyfriend's little sister (now since ex-boyfriend) and she'd been kicking out and hit the wall. The shelf broke and things fell and I covered her as best I could in the split second I had.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last night in Bad End! Party in the hiz-ouse! ... Yeah, no, never doing that again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it hasn't been QUITE a year since my last update... but it's close enough. I would give you excuses on why it's taken me so long but frankly I don't really have any reasons. Just general laziness and procrastination. Also I give you fair warning. This story is mostly going to be HUMOR, so serious characters like Thorin and Dwalin will probably- and by that I mean CERTAINLY- be OOC.
> 
> So without further ado, I give to thee this: Chapter 6 of Expect the Unexpected!
> 
> Disclaimer: Shiningheart of ThunderClan doesn't own The Hobbit.

It took a surprisingly short time for Bilbo to regain consciousness. I’d expected him to be out for longer than ten minutes, but he was groaning and fidgeting after only five. Without opening his eyes, Bilbo told himself firmly, “It was a dream. I dreamed a wizard, a woman, and thirteen dwarves came to clean out my pantry and pester me into joining a suicidal quest to kill a dragon and reclaim a mountain. When I open my eyes, I will be in my bed, alone, and possibly hungover from this pain in my head.” I barely stopped myself from snorting aloud at that one and stealthily crept up to lean over him. “Opening my eyes in three, two, one.”

He blinked a few times and jumped when he saw me a foot from his face. "Hi. Dream Dori made you some tea." I gestured to a steaming teapot because apparently simply reheating a pot of tea is blasphemous and will offend the Tea Gods. He didn't say it in so many words but that's the feeling I got when I asked.

Bilbo groaned and sat up slowly, cradling his head on his hands afterwards. "I can't believe I fainted. I have never once before fainted in my life!" I poured him a cup and carefully held it out to him until he sighed heavily and took it with a half-forced smile. "Thank you. Just let me sit quietly for a moment."

I glanced around quickly for Gandalf, as that should have been his cue. He wasn't anywhere in sight though. Should I go on and try to talk Bilbo into coming with us? I looked at him, staring forlornly into his tea like it contained the secrets of the universe and decided I'd ease him into it. "Bilbo?" He made a noise and blinked at me, like he forgot I was there. "Would it be alright if I checked your head? That was a nasty fall you took and I want to make sure you don't have a concussion."

He nodded and set down his tea, tilting his head down for easier access. Frankly I had very little experience in how to detect concussions aside from what I've read, but I tried my best. I gently probed the back of his head for bumps. There was a small one, but not small enough to completely eradicate the possibility. "Good. Now, let me look at your eyes." He obediently looked up when I said so, though he was clearly confused. "Follow my finger." I held up my pointer finger and trailed it in different directions. His eyes clearly followed and I was pleased to note the pupils were the same size.

Clearly he remembered what happened too, so it was safe to declare him healthy. "Well? Will he live?" I jumped at the amused voice and glowered up at the wizard as he came closer. "Don't give me that look. I have only trust in your abilities and knew he would be in good hands."

I pretended to sneeze and sniffled, hiding a grin behind my hands. "Sorry, I'm allergic to bullshit." One of my favorite lines from iRobot. Someone very clearly snorted from the hallway and I looked up at the door with a frown. "It's not nice to eavesdrop you know!" I called to them. Heavy boots clomped away, giving little clue who it was. It wasn’t Kili or Nori. They both had lighter footsteps from their respective trades, and I use the term ‘trade’ very lately in reference to Nori.

Gandalf speaking to Bilbo made me turn back to him. "Dear Bilbo, I’m glad you appear to be feeling better!" Bilbo smiled and reached for his tea without a word. Gandalf frowned at the non-answer but fixed a smile onto his face and walked around the table to stand opposite Bilbo. “So what do you think of the Company? A rather cheery lot, don’t you think?”

That smile never dropped from his smile but his eyes narrowed, making the expression rather sharp and admittedly disturbing. “Indeed. Cheerful and _bloody insane_!” His voice dropped into a hissed whisper, ensuring none of the dwarves would be able to hear. Knowing that didn’t stop me from wincing and looking around carefully. “It’s absolutely ludicrous, what they plan on doing! And shame on you for encouraging them, Gandalf!”

With every word Gandalf drooped further and further with disappointment. “Bilbo, please, think of it from their point of view! Erebor is their home, the place where their ancestors lay! They need our help to reclaim it when they were so unjustly thrown out!”

Bilbo huffed and glared down at his tea, unmoved. I worried about what it would mean that he was being so stubborn right now. He wasn’t like this in the movie. Was it my influence? Should I have waited until we were actually out on the road to work on his backbone? Did I ruin everything? “Bilbo, let me put it this way. You told me how the Sackville-Baggins are always trying to take Bag End from you. Your father built this place for your mother with his own bare hands. Each plank of wood, each piece of furniture has a story and a memory behind it, right?”

He looked around his home with a fond smile, eyes turning hazy as if reliving those very memories. “They do indeed. My father, Yavanna bless his soul, used to complain about all the splinters and bruises he’d gotten and said Mother has better appreciate all the hard work he’d put into it. You know what she said?” He waited for an answer and I shook my head indulgently. “She said the fireplace wasn’t big enough. How could she roast the bodies of her enemies over such a measly thing?”

I burst out laughing at that. It shouldn’t have surprised me, considering who we were talking about. But thinking about it, I barely knew anything about her. “That’s brilliant. I wish I could have known her.”

He snickered with me before sighing. “She would have loved you. Probably would have even tried to adopt you, take you under her trouble-making wing so to speak. Every so often, she and my father would play small harmless little pranks on each other. I remember one year in the summer, the three of us went on a walking holiday to Frogmorton. We were walking along the stream, speaking about nothing and everything, when she suddenly shoves him into the water. Oh he was furious at first! Hobbits aren’t made for water, you see. Mother was laughing and so was rather caught off guard when I pushed her in. There they are, both dripping wet and gaping at me in shock, and I’m standing there, innocent as can be, and the only thing I say to them is, ‘Oops, my hands slipped.’”

By the end of his story I was laughing so hard I had tears in my eyes. Just the mental image of that was so utterly adorable the only other action would have been to snuggle Bilbo like a child and coo. Gandalf was chuckling at the shared memory, and if his eyes were particularly shiny and wet, well, no one was saying anything. “Yes, that certainly sounds like something she would do.”

I allowed both of them a moment of silence before gently steering the both of them back to the present. “That mountain is their Bag End. Every stone there has their memories just like every plank of wood here holds yours. How can you know how important a home is and yet still deny them theirs?”

I could see him wavering and I got excited. All it would take was one more sentimental push and he’d totally give in. And then Gandalf opened his big fat unhelpful mouth and ruined any progress I’d made. “You aren’t the hobbit I knew once upon a time. What happened, Bilbo? You used to be such an adventurous, curious lad.”

Bilbo sighed and straightened his posture, as if reminding himself that Bagginses didn’t slouch. “The Fell Winter happened. Food needed to be rationed and hobbits couldn’t do outside for five minutes without getting frostbite, it was so cold. I’d gotten a fever and we needed to fetch the doctor, and Father volunteered to get her, promising to be back soon.

“We heard the wolves later that day, as the sun was going down. At first we didn’t think anything of it, but when he didn’t come back…” Bilbo gulped audibly, staring out at nothing. He took a shuddering breath and I wanted so badly to tell him he didn’t have to continue, that we’d heard enough and story be damned, he didn’t have to come if he didn’t want to. But I was paralyzed, doomed to listen to this sad tale that I’d never imagined. I mean I knew Bungo and Belladonna had perished in the Fell Winter, but hearing it now from their clearly traumatized son was another matter entirely. “The grief was too much for my mother. It was like she just… just gave up. She stopped eating, stopped playing, even stopped singing. Not even I could get her to smile anymore. She died, just as the snows were beginning to melt.”

I didn’t speak right away. There was a lump in my throat that blocked every attempt I made. The only bit of solace I could give was to sit next to him and give him a hug, and even that felt meaningless. Bilbo seemed to appreciate it at least, because he leaned into the embrace and it was like his entire being sagged. How long has it been since anyone had given him any comfort? A clap on the back, a one-armed hug, a pat on the head, anything?

My bleeding heart will get me killed one day, I know it. Every time I see someone suffering I get this shard of guilt wedged in my chest because I have it so much better. I have both parents who love me and each other. I have living siblings who, though farther away than I would like, are happy and loved. I have a job- or had, since I’ll probably need to get a new one when I get back. I had a roof over my head and never worried about when my next meal would be. When compared to everyone else’s problems, my complaints are juvenile and selfish.

Bilbo leaned away and I let him go, ignoring the not-so-subtle swipe of the eyes. “Thank you. You’ve been a blessing all day, even with your incredibly unusual mannerisms.”

I smirked and made my reply as light and casual as I could. “Oh is that what we’re calling it now? I thought the politically correct term was ‘annoying as shit’.” Gandalf chuckled at my tone while Bilbo cringed at the curse. It succeeded in lightening the mood though, so I called it a victory and got to my feet. “I will respect your decision, but I wish you would come with us all the same. I’m going to miss you.”

And I wasn’t just saying it to sway him either. I really would miss him when everything was said and done and I was back home. Sassy Bilbo is one of my favorite things ever, and his sense of humor had proven far more dry and sarcastic than I’d ever thought it would be.

Bilbo looked at war with himself after my comment, but I excused myself and left the room. The last time I had a bit of true privacy was before I came to Middle Earth. Even in the bathroom Gandalf was waiting for me. Probably trying to jinx me with the runs, come to think of it. Bibbity bobbity boo, I curse you with liquid poo!

Considering all that, I needed a moment to myself, if only to just to breath unoccupied air. The problem was both the front and back doors were being guarded by dwarves I didn’t want to run into. Thorin and Balin were having their bromance scene up front and I could hear Fili and Kili bickering in the back.

Normally I wouldn’t have worried about the younger Durin heirs, but I still needed to have that talk with Kili. I wasn’t really sure what he wanted to talk about that couldn’t be said in front of the others, but everything inside of me was screaming to avoid it as long as possible.

Thorin was currently the lesser of two evils, as weird as that was to contemplate (and considering his temper it’s horrible how true that is) so I chose the front door to be my stage left, so to speak. He and Balin seemed to have just finished up, since Thorin was just putting away that rusted old key. Both dwarves looked up when I approached. Balin tilted his head in silent fatherly concern while Thorin raised a single speculative eyebrow. “Pardon, Master Dwarves. I was on my way to the door and didn’t want to interrupt.”

Thorin’s brow dropped to a narrowed and almost challenging glare. This was more the Thorin I was expecting, rather than the almost friendly dwarf from before. “Are you abandoning us already, Miss Katie? Dwalin vouched for you earlier. I would hate to tell him how wrong he was about you.” 

I wasn’t sure how to react to that. Immediately my heart warmed at the idea of Dwalin saying I was worthy enough to come with the Company. At least I finally knew what they were whispering about when Fili and Kili were ‘comforting’ me. Another part of me was slightly incensed that Thorin would think that of me. I mean I know I wasn’t the most dependable person, I wasn’t one of those ‘I gave my word so I’ll keep my promise’ people that he probably valued and respected, but he didn’t know about that.

My third and final reaction was the one I went with. I smirked at him and tilted my head in a way that made it clear I wasn’t being serious. “So the great king and head guard waste away their time gossiping like old maids? Or am I simply a special case?”

Balin was polite enough to hide his smile behind his sleeve, but only a blind fool would miss the laughing sparkle in his eye. Thorin was hardly amused though, if the stern frown on his face said anything. “Only about strangers who appear out of nowhere and immediately single out my nephews. How can I be absolutely certain you are what you say? That you aren’t simply targeting them for some nefarious reason? That you don’t plan on causing more trouble for us than we can afford?”

Something told me it would be a very very bad idea to tease him about his word choice. Because seriously, _nefarious_? Who the fuck said that, even here? For a few tense heartbeats, Thorin and I stared at each other. My saving grace was sent to us in the form of Kili’s clumsiness. A sudden crash of clanking pots came from the back and was immediately followed by Kili yelling, “FILI DID IT!”

Just as immediately was Fili denying it. “I DID NOT!” Then there was the sound of scuffling, followed quickly by a second crash. A pause as we all waited for one of them to blame the other. Instead Fili sounded slightly sheepish as he called, “OKAY, THAT ONE WAS ME. SORRY BILBO.”

The timing was too perfect to not take advantage of. Raising my eyebrows at Thorin, I gave a grandiose wave of my arm in their general direction. “You honestly think I can cause more trouble than those two? Really?”

Thorin wore the pained look of a parent who’d heard this same argument thousands of times. He stalked past me with nothing more than a grumble, though from the theoretical storm clouds over him I had the distinct suspicion he was about to strike the fear of God into his nephews.

As much as I wanted to see that, I had other things on my mind. Balin was chuckling aloud now, his cheeks red with suppressed laughter. “Lass, I have to thank you. Truly. My heart hasn’t been this light in what feels like ages.” He gave me a grandfatherly pat on the shoulder and gestured with his head to the door, his snowy beard swinging through the air as he did so. “Go on now, dear. I know the look of someone who needs to be alone. Don’t go too far though! It’s getting dark, and who knows what may prowl around at night here. I’ll send someone to fetch you in a bit.” I didn’t respond verbally, choosing instead to dip my head and move past him.

The night air that greeted me was so refreshing that I took three deep breaths before even looking around. I was half surprised to realize no one was already out here. In just about every story where the OC steps out of Bag End, the bench is already occupied. But then the usual suspects are all still inside, so I’m not sure who I was expecting.

But the whole point of me coming out was to be alone. If no one was out here now, they’d probably come later. So how could I avoid that but still stay close enough to hear Thorin sing? Balin said he’d send someone out for me soon, but if it was Kili then he’d probably want that talk while we had privacy. I could psyche them out and go to the back, but the view wasn’t quite as stupendous. So where could I go that no one would look for me but I could still see everything?

The answer? Up.

Like every other smial in The Shire, Bag End was build inside of a hill. As such it was an easy matter to climb up the side and sit on the roof. The view wasn’t very much changed, and it’s an unwritten code that no one ever looks up so I should be safe. Hopefully.

Then I just sat there and stared out at nothing. Don’t get me wrong, the scenery was astounding and I will make it my life’s mission to one day go to New Zealand where the Hobbit films were shot. But right then I just wasn’t feeling it.

The sun had completely set by now. And Balin had been wrong about the rain; there wasn’t a single cloud up in the sky. The stars here were brighter than back home, and far more numerous too. I tried to pick out the brightest ones, but there were so many of them that I lost track. Had I already counted that one, on the horizon? The one above my head? I had no idea.

I thought I saw a shooting star too, but that might have just been wishful thinking. Out of nowhere I had the urge to sing, but it wasn’t as surprising to me as it might’ve been to someone else. I always had the urge to sing. So I opened my mouth and sung the first thing that came to my mind. _”I have often dreamed of a far off place, where a great warm welcome will be waiting for me. Where the crowds with cheer, when they see my face, and a voice keeps saying this is where I’m meant to be.”_

I paused and looked around, blinking. I thought I’d heard something, but dismissed it after a moment. I hadn’t heard a door open, so I knew it wasn’t a dwarf. If it was a hobbit, I wouldn’t have been able to hear anything. As for Gandalf, he had far too large of a presence to be missed. So I settled back and continued the song. _”I will find my way, I can go the distance. I’ll be there someday, if I can be strong. I know every mile will be with my while. I would go most anywhere to feel like I… belong….”_

“An interesting sentiment.” I’m fairly certain that was the universe flipping me off for making assumptions. Thorin’s voice made me jump like a trillion feet in the air and I’m pretty sure that, if I’d been inside, I’d be clinging to the roof like a cat in those old cartoons. For what felt like forever but was probably only a few heartbeats, I gaped up at the dwarf king because _dwarves aren’t meant to be the ninjas of Middle Earth God dammit._ Thorin had a small, tiny smirk on his face that I could really only make out by the light of the moon. “Apologies. I did not mean to startle you.”

My voice was higher pitched than normally when I responded. “What, me? Startled? Perish the thought. I’m totally unflappable. Can’t flap me, nope nope nope!” He stared down at me with a quirked eyebrow and said nothing. The silence stretched on for so long that I started fidgeting and darting my eyes around. Finally I sighed and looked away. “Okay, spit it out. What do you want?”

Thorin sat down next to me, far more graceful and majestic than anyone had the right to be. Fucking shithead showoff. “I have questions. Gandalf is either unwilling to answer them or unable and ‘suggested’ I ask you.” He was far too dignified for air quotes but the emphasis was there! “First and most important, what are your intentions for my sister-sons?”

Aw, overprotective Papa dwarf is adorable. Not that I’d ever tell him that. “Not what you’re probably thinking, I can tell you that. I mean don’t get me wrong, the both of them are Hella attractive. Kili especially. I mean I have a weakness for blue eyes and blonde hair and Fili is like the prime example of babe, but Kili, omg. The smirk, the hair, the build! Don’t even get me started on the beard. Like I know you guys pride yourselves on luxurious facial hair but I frankly prefer short ones. Not like yours, yours is too prickly, but Kili’s is just right. Ooh, I wonder what his abs look like? Does he have a six pack or an eight pack? I actually like six packs more because it means they’re active but not so much that they’d want me to be active because let me tell you I am one of the laziest shits you will ever meet and I probably shouldn’t have told you that because you’re in charge but oh well, it’s out there now.”

Jesus freaking Christ when did babbly Katie appear? Thorin was visibly disturbed by the topic and I seriously could not blame him. Nervous energy made me tap my fingers on the ground and bounce my knee but I absolutely refused to speak before he did for fear of more projectile word vomit spewing forth.

It felt like an eternity for Thorin to respond. The only hint to his thoughts was his facial expressions, and the most I got out of that was the occasional twitch of his cheek. I desperately hoped I hadn’t given him mental images. Then his jaw firmed and his eyes narrowed, apparently driving out whatever thoughts had been going through his head. “You are not allowed to be alone with either of them. Ever. Under pain of death.” The tone he used was the one leaders always used, the stern one that doomed anyone who dared to disagree with his order.

… And now I have the mental image of Thorin singing the Doom Song. God fucking damn it. That pretty much murdered my thought process and without thinking of how it sounded I asked, “What if I’m with both of them? Does that count as alone?” He made a small distressed sound and I realized how that could be taken. If nobody heard the spastic squawking from inside I will sincerely be utterly amazed. “No no no, not like that! I swear to God I’m not that kind of girl! I’m a one-man pony. No wait that could be taken wrong too. Um…” Good Lord could this GET any more awkward?

The answer? Yes. Yes it could. “Uncle, Katie, are you out here?” Why, Fili? Just, just why? “Look if I’m interrupting anything I can just go back inside but Dwalin was wondering where you two were and Balin said Katie was out here and Gandalf said that Uncle was asking about her so I thought maybe you’d be out here together.” I half-stood to get his attention but Thorin put a hand on my arm, bidding me to sit back down. I did, curious, and copied Thorin as he made himself as small as he could against the grassy rooftop of Bad End. “No? You’re not? Uh… well this is awkward…” Blondie, you have no idea. “I’ll just… go back inside then? Uh… yeah…”

One second, three seconds, then five seconds passed until I heard a door close. I puffed out a sigh so heavy it ruffled the grass blades in front of me and slumped bonelessly. Thorin rose from his crouch to reclaim his earlier position. We sat in a surprisingly comfortable silence before I rolled onto my side, shooting a quick grin up at him. “Well could be worse. It could’ve been Kili who came out.” Thorin gave a snort, but I couldn’t tell if it was in agreement or contempt at my optimism. “So why did you stop me from answering? You’re not gonna ask after my intentions for Erdwalin, are you?”

I hoped the staring wasn’t going to be an ongoing thing, because it was starting to get annoying. The mask was in place, not telling me anything about what was going through his head. Then in the universal strangled voice of someone trying desperately to not laugh, he choked out, “Erdwalin?”

My grin was immediate. I should have known that Dwalin wouldn’t have filled him in. I launched into a dramatic retelling of my day, starting from when Gandalf and I walked up to Bag End. I included impressions and hand gestures, to make it more engaging. I’m not a story teller, not in the slightest, but there’s a difference between telling a story and trying to make someone laugh. I held nothing back, not even my abysmal cooking skills which I felt was necessary for him to know.

When I got to the origin of the nickname, Thorin placed his forehead to his knee and took large breaths, clenching and unclenching his hands into fists to keep his composure. I stopped speaking and poked his bicep, curious what reaction he’d give. The only one I noticed was a minor twitch before he rolled one hand in the air. “Continue. I want to hear the rest.”

I did as he said, hesitating when it came to the boys’ introduction. I didn’t want to get them in trouble. But Thorin urged me on and slowly the story unspun. He looked torn between horror and hilarity at their game of Pass The Katie, and I resolved to apologize to the boys for whatever shit their uncle will eventually dump on them.

The tale eventually ended with Thorin’s own entrance. Thankfully he allowed me to stop there, because my voice had gotten scratchy from dryness. Thorin passed me a waterskin without a word and I sniffed it suspiciously, half expecting it to be some type of booze. But this was Thorin, not Bofur, and I got nothing but water when I sipped at it. Thorin nodded when I gave it back with a grateful grin. “So did that answer your question?”

Thorin didn’t even hesitate before giving a brief but firm nod. “That and more. You’ve no romantic inclinations towards my sister-sons. You’re an idiot. You have absolutely zero survival skills, and if I had any sense whatsoever I'd leave you here where you'd be safe.” He held up a hand to forestall any of my protests and waited until I've reluctantly closed my mouth to continue. “However, I have also seen your kindness, and your loyalty, and the trust my men have in you. My nephews are naive and unused to the ways of the world. Dwalin, however, is another matter entirely. He has been to Hell and back, and has been as cheated and lied to as I have. For whatever reason, he is on your side, and that’s worth far more than you know.”

I wanted to speak, to thank him for the kind words or even deny them, but my tongue felt tied. It was like Gandalf had made me mute again. All I could do was duck my head with what felt like my entire body aflame with embarrassment. Thorin must have understood, for he stood and offered me a hand. “Come. It's getting late, and we have an early start tomorrow.”

Ugh, that’s right. I forgot the whole ‘we leave at first light’ thing he had going. Whatever good impression the company had of me would wither and die once they realized how grouchy I could be in the morning. “For the record, I hate everything about waking up early and will not be held responsible for any cuts, bruises, or bite marks that may occur.” He was visibly undecided on if I was kidding or not, and I made very sure my smile did not give away any hints. Let him stew. It will make it that much funnier when the morning comes.

To my extreme excitement, the Company was already gathered in front of the fireplace with their pipes out. All activity and sound ceased when we entered, and I schooled my features into a serious frown like Thorin’s. I nodded at him like I was confirming an agreement, and we went our separate ways.

Fili and Kili were sitting together against the wall, passing a single pipe back and forth between them. I half expected one of them to offer it to me, but was grateful when neither did. Last thing I wanted was for them to think me a prude, with not drinking or smoking. I chose to sit next to Kili, big surprise, and he gave me a slightly accusatory look. It wouldn’t surprise me if he thought I’d avoided him on purpose. I mean I totally did, but that was besides the point. I shrugged helplessly and whispered, “Don’t blame me. Your uncle ambushed me when I went outside and interrogated me. I’m not entirely sure I passed, either. The dwarf shows about as much emotion as a brick wall.”

He covered a snort with a cough, and just like that I was forgiven. He nudged my arm with his elbow, prompting an elbow war that only ended when Fili shoved his brother into me. Kili and I glared at him, but Fili glared back. “Knock it off you two.” he muttered. “Normally I’m all for shenanigans, but now is not the time.”

Kili ducked his head in regretful silence, but I was genuinely curious. I mean I knew what was about to happen, but was it a common occurrence? Did they always sing their song when they went out? But no, dwarves had that thing about keeping their secrets away from outsiders… right? I mean most of what I know of their culture comes from fanfictions, and I know that’s not very reliable, but they couldn’t ALL have gotten it wrong, right? I hope not, because that means any information I had would be useless.

Soon the only sounds were the crackling of the fire and the puffing of smoke. The first one to start humming was Thorin, and at once I was transfixed. The others all joined in with their own humming, harmonizing until my very core vibrated with them. As soon as Thorin started singing he was the only one in the room I heard. _“Far over the Misty Mountains cold… To dungeons deep and caverns old. We must away, ‘ere break of day, to find our long forgotten gold.”_

The others all joined in, even Fili and Kili, and immediately I vowed to make the both of them sing more often. They sounded better in real life than they had in the movie! _“The pines were roaring, ooooon the height. The winds were moaning in the night! The fire was red, it flaming spread, the trees like torches blazed with light.”_

A solemn silence came after that, with everybody being in their own thoughts. I spoke softly so as not to disturb the mood. “Wow… That was beautiful…” A few of the dwarves smiled at me while others ducked their heads. “Can I just… Can I ask a serious question?” They all turned to me, even Thorin, and I could see the expectation and resignation in them all. They totally knew I was about to say something stupid, and who was I to disappoint them? With all the seriousness of a serious person, I pointed right at Thorin and asked to everyone, “How does such a beautiful voice belong to a face like that?”

Snickers and snorts broke out, but none snickered more than Dwalin. Thorin barked something at him in Khuzdul that only made him laugh harder. You didn’t have to know who they were to recognize just how close the two were. Thorin whirled on me with the fiercest glare I’d ever received, and only having Kili next to me kept me from squirming. “If you think you can do better then please, go right ahead! I’ll not have you mocking the hopes of my people unless you can back it up!”

… Did… Did Thorin just inadvertently challenge me to a sing off? Because that’s what it sounded like. Everyone stopped laughing to look curiously back and forth between him and myself. I hummed to myself, not a song but a thoughtful noise. I was never one to turn down the chance to sing.

But what could I choose that would stir the heart as much as their prayer song? It would obviously have to have the element of ‘home’ in it. Perhaps Taking You Home, from the second Balto movie? I know all the words to that. But no, it didn’t have that sentimental punch to the gut the moment needed. Home, by Thousand Foot Krutch? Pff, good luck. I barely know even a quarter of the lyrics.

What about… Temporary Home would certainly work! Decision made, I closed my eyes and started to sing. _“Little boy, six years old. A little too used to being alone. Another new mom and dad, another school, another house that will never be home. When people ask him how he likes this place, he looks up and says with a smile upon his face…_

_“This is my temporary home, it’s not where I belong. Windows and rooms that I’m passing through. This is just a stop, on the way the where I’m going. I’m not afraid because I know this is my temporary home.”_

Nobody made a peep and I grew nervous. Usually when I sang in front of people it wasn’t about sounding good, it was about having fun. Who cared how good I sounded when everyone was too busy laughing? That wasn’t the case, and I was almost too nervous to continue. Almost.

_“Young mom on her own. Needs a little help, got nowhere to go. She’s looking for a job, looking for a way out, cuz a halfway house will never be a home. At night she whispers to her baby girl, someday we’ll find a place here in this world.”_

There was a short, sharp intake from multiple places around the room. Yeah, I thought that part would get to them. A smile danced on my face as I want through the chorus again. _“This is our temporary home, it’s not where we belong. Windows and rooms, that we’re passing through. This is just a stop on the way to where we’re going. Don’t be afraid because I know, this is our temporary home.”_

Were those the right words? I didn’t know, but they felt right for that part of the song. The next part, to me, was the most important, and I needed the dwarves to know that. I put as much feeling into my voice as I could.

_“Old man, hospital bed. The room is filled with people he loves. And he whispers don’t cry for me, I’ll see you all some day. He looks up and says, ‘I can see God’s face’..._

_“This was my temporary home, it’s not where I belong. Windows and rooms, that I have passed through. This was just a stop on the way to where I’m going. I’m not afraid because I know… This was my temporary home…”_

Normally there would be a bunch of hums and repeats of temporary home, but it wouldn’t sound right without music to accompany it. Slowly I opened my eyes and looked around the room. Dori actually looked suspiciously wet-eyed, while everyone else was either looking down or puffing on their pipes.

It took a while for somebody to break the silence. The longer it took, the more I hunched my shoulders and shrank back, trying to fade into Kili’s shadow. 

The first to speak was Dwalin, surprisingly enough. Even more surprising, he spoke in Khuzdul, and the only reason he’d have to do that is if he didn’t want me to know what was being said. He was addressing Thorin while looking at me, and both warriors had expressions that I couldn’t decipher. Thorin inclined his head, as if considering what his friend had said.

Then Dwalin spoke again and Thorin’s head snapped around to glare at him. The conversation proceeded between them, with me being the only one not knowing what the hell was going on. 

Then Thorin planted his feet, squared his shoulders, and looked Dwalin right in the eyes. He spoke one word, one clear word that needed absolutely no translation. “Erdwalin.” Most of the Company were perplexed at the sudden glare thrown at me by Dwalin, even more when Thorin smirked and Balin, Fili, and Kili all coughed and shook with laughter. This wouldn’t have been odd in the boys’ case, they laughed at damn near everything, but Balin was another matter entirely.

Dwalin looked almost ready to lunge at Thorin in a tackle. I didn’t think before taking the largest object nearby, Kili’s discarded boot, and chucked it between them. The two stopped staring at each other and instead turned to stare at me. “So hey here’s a suggestion. How’s about we DON’T break Bilbo’s smial, yeah? After all the shit he’s put up with today, I think he deserves at least a LITTLE courtesy, don’cha think?”

A beat, and Thorin nodded. “Indeed. We should all get some sleep. We leave early in the morning.” There were various groans and mutters of ‘fucking tyrant’ but that was mostly from Dwalin who’s probably the only one who could get away with it, and everybody shuffled off towards their own bags. Which brings me to an awkward realization that _Jesus fuck I’m going to be sleeping next to a bunch of strange smelly hairy dwarves and how the fuck am I ever going to get to sleep?_

Even back home I had problems falling asleep. I wouldn’t call it insomnia or anything like that, but there were times when my brain simply refused to turn itself off until the wee hours of the morning, and if Thorin was serious about waking up at dawn- and fuck him because I KNOW he is- then it’s very liable I will fall off my pony by lunch.

Something of my litany of mental cursing must have shown because Kili took a quick look at me, turned away, then snapped his head back to stare up at me. “Either you’re using every curse word you know in your head or you just seriously need the bathroom. And I’m not all that sure which one I’d prefer…”

The uncertain and mildly disturbed look on his shaggy face made me snicker, despite my inner turmoil. I flopped down half on top of him, making no movement to suggest I’d move away. My bags were in another room, but I didn’t think I’d need any of it tonight. “It’s more of the first one, but it’s mostly aimed at your uncle with the ‘we start at first light thing’. Just, ugh. Why FIRST light? Why not second? First is the worst, seconds the best, third is the one with the hairy chest!”

A laugh on my other side alerted me to Fili’s presence as well, and I naturally contorted myself until at least one part of my body was touching either brother. They didn’t seem to mind it either. “You’re so weird, where do you even come up with these phrases?” I grinned mysteriously and winked at him, not saying a word. Fili shook his head with a wry grin. “I will get it out of you one day, I swear it.” Go ahead and try, Blondie. You’d have to pry the truth from my cold dead body… which would be incredibly counterproductive.

Kili yawned widely and pressed his forehead to the crown of my head. Giving no care to the hair that must’ve been in his mouth, he mumbled, “Which reminds me. What were you doing earlier, when you nodded at him?”

I grinned to myself before replying. “Making a pass at your thrice-my-age uncle.” Both boys huffed a laugh but were apparently too knackered for much more witty banter, their eyes slowly fluttering shut. Some maternal part of me roared to life and I placed a soft kiss on whichever part of them I could reach. “Sleep well, lovelies. I’ll be here in the morning.”


End file.
